The Puppet Unstrung: Chloe's Freedom

but I went anyway. It was a habit, just l

ed to always be there, now stood across the room, radiating

nd his face hardened i

oat tightened as Sarah, blissfully unaware, gushed

, isn\'t it? How people can just decide to move on." The accusation

l always be here. Always." Another memory superimposed: crying in his car last year, Mark' s fifth betrayal. "

there, under Ethan\'s cold stare, something snapped. The fog receded. The invisible strings w

a physical blow. I had been a puppet, a

rooftop. But when I found him, he was kissing Sarah

bird she' d found, the ring he' d given her. He' d weaponized our past,

g blow. "Now, all I can think is how lucky I am

smigrator. She had manipulated everything, using

," she' d said, her smile triumphant,

st been a victim of a story; I'

iated me, calling me "unstable," unworthy. Ethan, my last

her?" he scoffed. "Come on, Mike. Don\'t be ridiculous. I was just a n

, dismissed in a single, careless sentence. It shattered me

ed me to the old Chloe, and burned them. A funeral. A baptism.

rica. My flight was in

. There he was. Ethan. Probably here to

ned hi

flat, devoid of all emotion.

roken me. Or maybe, he saw that I had finally broken fre

Africa. And I w