Carter never changed the lock.
Itâs funny how regret sweeps through me as I open the front door. My hand is heavy with it and as I look over my shoulder, back down the hall, so are my legs. When I put my hand to the scanner, I didnât expect for it to work. I didnât think it would be so effortless.
Saying goodbye is never easy. Especially the kind of goodbye thatâs final. The kind that hurts to say out loud, but it hurts even more when buried deep down inside.
I only stand in the doorway for a moment before I feel the breeze in the early evening air. Iâm surprised no oneâs running down the hall when I close the door behind me.
Even more surprised when I wrap my arms around myself, careful with my left shoulder, although itâs feeling better now with the pain pills I found in the half bathâs medicine cabinet.
The wind brushes my hair from my shoulder, exposing my skin to the cold. Goosebumps flow over my skin as I take each step down, each step farther away from Carter.
Part of me wonders if heâs watching. Another part knows that he is.
He wonât let me get far. I already know that, but I need to know how far heâll allow before someone will come and scoop me up to take me back to him.
Whether it happens today, or tomorrow, or a week from now, Iâll never stop trying to leave. I repeat those words in my head as I take another step.
I donât think of the reasons. There are too many at this point, and only the outcome matters.
I canât stay here any longer. This isnât the life I want. Itâs never been more clear than it is now.
My pace doesnât slow until I get to a metal gate at the end of the drive. I hadnât seen it before through all the trees, and I guess it was open last time the cars drove through.
I canât imagine they keep anything out but vehicles, because the gaps in the intricate metal are plenty wide enough for a person to pass through.
And I do.
My fingers grip the cold iron and I duck my head as I turn to slip through the bars.
Peering back at the house, I know heâs watching and when I turn back to the remaining driveway that carries on for at least a quarter mile and then weaves through a thick forest, I know heâs going to stop me soon. The cameras at the top of the gate swivel, following me.
My heart flickers weakly. The stupid thing doesnât understand. Itâs still filled with hope.
Thereâs no hope though. There never was.