Five months. Five long, grueling months since the crash, and I can’t take it anymore. Jimmy's constant insults, the endless responsibility of keeping Curly alive, the suffocating weight of it all-it’s too much. I stare down at the pills in my hand, my grip tightening around the bottle as I hear the others approaching the door. There’s a knock, followed by Daisuke’s voice, soft and worried, asking me to open up. The thought of disappointing him makes my chest ache, but I can’t find the strength to respond. Then I hear Jimmy’s voice cut through the silence, laced with that familiar, condescending tone.

"Did you lock yourself in there, Anya?"

I answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes."

He scoffs, his words dripping with disdain.

"You can’t just go shutting yourself away whenever something doesn’t go your way."

I almost laugh at the absurdity of it, feeling a bitter smile tug at my lips. He thinks this is about things not going my way? My grip tightens around the pill bottle as I respond, my voice low but steady.

“I always believed that our worst moments don’t define us. Didn’t make us beyond repair. You think I wanted this either? Make no mistake. This isn’t my worst moment. Far from it. It’s the best decision I’ll ever make.”