It feels like a fragile shield against issues too big for me.
But what if it’s not enough?
What if the landlord finds out about the leak and uses it to charge me?
Or worse, what if the leak worsens while I’m away?
There’s no one I trust enough to check in, no clear way to make this stop feeling like it’s spiraling out of control.
Tomorrow morning I have to leave.
The suitcase is ready, the documents printed, but I can’t shake the feeling that this small moment in the kitchen is the hinges on something much larger.
I haven’t told anyone about the leak or the paper-and-glass thing.
It’s a weird secret that links me to the place in a way I don’t fully understand yet.
And now, standing there, waiting for this ordinary gesture to do its work, I realize the coming week might bring more than just rest—it could deepen this unraveling or force me to face it head-on.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
