Back in her apartment, Seraphine began packing, her movements deliberate and brisk. Each item she tucked into her suitcase felt lighter than the weight in her chest. As her hand brushed the edge of a forgotten photo album, she paused.
She opened it carefully and was immediately confronted with memories. The album chronicled the grand promises Luther once made—9,999 surprises, one for every step they would take toward a shared future. Each photo represented a moment he had claimed was special.
Now, the album was nearly full, with one blank page left.
Seraphine’s throat tightened as she traced the edge of the final page. The weight of broken promises crushed her momentarily, but she inhaled deeply and closed the album. Those memories no longer belonged to her; they were relics of a gilded lie.
Gripping the album, she headed downstairs to the garden courtyard. The cool night air was bracing, the distant hum of the city a reminder that life moved on. She knelt by the old firepit, striking a match with steady hands.
The first photo curled as the flames took hold, the fire consuming the pages eagerly. Years of memories turned to ash, their significance evaporating into the night air.