I returned ho, half expecting chaos. Maybe Abby had already told soone about and Faith, and I’d walk into a full-blown interrogation. But the house was quiet.
I barely made it through the door before my uncle’s voice cut through the silence.
"Where have you been?"
I turned to see him watching from the living room, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"At Eric’s," I answered, trying to sound casual as I kicked off my shoes.
He let out a short breath, shaking his head. "You’ve been spending a lot of ti with that boy lately. You should be focusing on work, not running around. You know, Eric always made his father proud. Every ti and he didn’t do it by always going around. Focus on your work and stop walking around the neighborhood."
I froze for a split second before nodding slowly.
Of course.
Of course, even now, after everything, I still wasn’t enough.
I clenched my jaw, but I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? I could list out all the things I’d done, all the tis I’d tried to prove myself, but what difference would it make? He’d already made up his mind about a long ti ago.
So, I just stood there, silent.
He shook his head again, muttering sothing under his breath before turning back to the TV.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and walked past him, heading to my room.
I’m leaving soon anyway, it didn’t matter anymore.
Whatever he has to say doesn’t matter, my life is in my own hands now.
I got to my room and shut the door behind , exhaling sharply.
I knew I shouldn’t let my uncle’s words get to , but they did. They always did.
No matter what I did, I was never going to be Eric in his eyes. Never good enough. Never the type of man he could be proud of.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to push those thoughts aside.
I had bigger things to focus on. My life was in my own hands now.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, my mind racing. A part of wanted to start packing right away, to throw everything into a bag and leave tonight. But I couldn’t be reckless. I was upset, yeah, but I couldn’t let that cloud my judgnt.
In less than a week, I’d be gone. No need to draw suspicion by packing too soon.
Instead, I grabbed my laptop and opened it, my fingers moving instinctively to pull up the notes Eric sent .
I started researching the team he ntioned—the people who could help bring my ga to life.
There were six of them, all in their early twenties, passionate but struggling to find steady footing in the industry.
1. Alex Carter – Lead Developer. The guy had raw talent, coding since he was thirteen, but he lacked proper resources and connections.
2. Zoe Kim – Ga Designer. She had brilliant ideas but had been stuck working freelance jobs that barely paid.
3. Malik Adisa – 3D Artist. His work was insane—intricate designs, fluid animations—but he’d never been able to land a major project.
4. Elena Rossi – Writer. She could craft imrsive stories, but most of her work was ghostwriting for gas that never saw the light of day.
5. Darren Lee – Sound Designer. He had a great ear for music and effects, but he was still working part-ti at a coffee shop to survive.
6. Nia Williams – Marketing & Community Manager. She knew how to build hype, but without the right ga to promote, her skills went unnoticed.
They’d worked on a few indie projects together, but their biggest hurdle was funding. Investors didn’t want to take a chance on a small, unknown team, and the few gigs they landed barely paid enough to keep them afloat. They were talented but stuck in a cycle of dead-end projects.
I could change that.
If this worked out, we’d all be building sothing bigger than any of us had before.
After making notes on each of them, I switched gears and started researching Vancouver.
I looked up apartnts—sothing simple, nothing too flashy. I checked out the cost of living, the culture, the job market, even random things like the best places to eat.
It was a whole different world, but I could see myself there. A fresh start. A chance to build sothing real.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen, letting it all sink in. A small smile playing at the corner of my lips. Shit I’m really moving away from this country.
Two days passed by quickly.
Eric told he got the passport, and now all that was left was booking the flight.
"Just pick a date," he said.
I did. Told him exactly when I’d be leaving.
"I’ll confirm with you again before I book it," he replied, like he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t change my mind.
I wouldn’t.
Abby hadn’t said anything to anyone—at least, not that I knew of. So, nothing had really happened over the last two days. No drama, no confrontations. Just ti moving forward, pushing closer to leaving.
I started packing lightly at first. Just the essentials. It wasn’t like I could take everything with . At first, I thought about bringing so extra things, but then I asked myself—what was the point?
I was starting over.
I didn’t need to drag my old life with .
So, in the end, I packed only what I truly needed. Just the basics. And sohow, everything fit into one bag—my backpack.
When I finished, I stood there, hands on my hips, staring at the bag resting on my bed.
That was it.
I glanced around my room, taking it all in. The walls, the furniture, the little things I’d gotten used to over the years.
It felt strange.
Not sad, not exactly. Just... final.
Like I was closing a Chapter in a book I wasn’t planning on rereading.
"Well," I muttered under my breath, exhaling slowly. "Guess that’s that."
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