Selena awoke before dawn, sunlight still muted beyond her window. The apartment was quieter than usual. She carefully slipped free of the sheets and moved with purpose, her bathrobe brushing the floor as she crossed the room. Today is the last day before everything changes.
She began packing. She folded clean clothes, placed them in boxes, and taped them shut with mechanical calm. She stacked her favorite mug: the floral teacup from her first day, the chipped white one that reminded her of home. A blanket. A few books.
By the time the coffee machine clicked through its cycles in the kitchen, she'd filled three boxes and a suitcase. The countertop was covered in brown paper and open cartons. Somehow, in this chaos, she felt steady.
