"It wasn't yours to keep," she countered, leaning forward. "And it’s not yours to take back. It belongs to the city now."
Outside, the rain battered the city like a drum, a relentless rhythm that seemed to echo the chaotic thoughts racing through her mind. She had spent years running from her past, but tonight, the past had caught up. A letter sat on the table, its seal broken, the paper stained with raindrops. It was from a man she thought she’d buried in her memories, a ghost from a life she had left behind. tia cyrus
Tia traced the rim of her glass, her dark eyes reflecting the ambient glow of the neon sign across the street. She wasn't the same naive girl who had fled that small coastal town a decade ago. She had hardened, sharpened her edges, and built walls high enough to block out the sun. But the handwriting on that letter—slanted, hurried, urgent—made those walls tremble. "It wasn't yours to keep," she countered, leaning forward