Chapter 2:
Morning came without change. The room looked the same, the silence just as loud. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, wondering how many mornings she had wasted waiting for something to happen on its own.
Hunger pushed her up. Not hope. Not faith. Hunger. It reminded her that time was passing whether she moved or not. She washed her face with cold water and looked at her reflection. She didn't look strong. She didn't feel brave. But she was tired — tired of waiting, tired of praying without acting, tired of pretending that things would fix themselves.
She began to think differently. Not about miracles, but about small steps. A job application. A visit to a nearby shop. Even asking questions felt like progress. The idea scared her, but it also gave her something she hadn't felt in a long time — control.
That day, she stepped outside with no clear plan, only a decision to try. The sun felt unfamiliar on her skin, as if she had been hiding from it for too long. She didn't know if things would get better, but she knew one thing for sure: doing something, even something small, felt better than waiting for nothing.