I stood up and looked around the room.

It was a blank space, devoid of posters or decorations.

I had never made it my own because I always knew I didn’t belong here.

“What about me?” Chloe asked.

She looked small standing in the doorway of my tiny room.

“You have your own path, Chloe,” I said.

I walked past her, my suitcase dragging slightly on the carpet.

She followed me down the stairs.

The front door was open, the cool night air blowing into the foyer.

Outside, the blue and red lights were gone, replaced by the yellow glow of the streetlamps.

My car, an old sedan I had bought myself, was parked at the curb.

I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

The air was fresh, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine trees.

For the first time in ten years, I didn’t feel the need to pull my sleeves down over my wrists.

I walked down the concrete driveway, my head held high.

The street was empty.

The neighbors were probably behind their closed curtains, watching me.