As soon as I slammed the door to my room, it felt like I was shutting the last door on whatever was left of my relationship with them. I was angry—angry at how easily they dismissed me, as if I were nothing.
I grabbed my suitcase, the weight of the situation crushing me, and as I started packing, I couldn’t hold back the tears. The zipper on my suitcase felt like it was mocking me as I dug through my things.
"I can’t believe them," I whispered to myself, feeling every word cut deep. "They threw me aside… just like that."
But then, as I continued to pack, I realized something that made my heart skip a beat—where were the gifts? The designer bag Marco had given me, the expensive stilettos from Enzo—everything was gone.
Where is it?
Panic bubbled up in my chest, and I couldn’t stop myself from tossing things aside in frustration. It was as if my memories, my life here, had vanished into thin air. I searched the entire room frantically, but they were nowhere to be found.
Those gifts were expensive, meaningful. They were from them. And now, they were gone.