The echoes of her argument with her father still reverberated in Grace’s ears as she slammed the guesthouse door shut. The familiar sound of Luke’s oblivious laughter, muffled by his headphones, had been the final straw. She'd stormed into the living room, a storm brewing inside her, ready to confront him about his perpetual detachment.

“Listen, I couldn’t care less about your stupid video! I’m talking to you!” Grace’s voice had been sharp, her patience worn thin. But Luke, buried in his phone, had merely grunted a dismissive, “Hmm, yes, maybe later, okay?”

The anger had boiled over. This wasn't the Luke she knew, the one she'd fallen for. This was a stranger, indifferent to her feelings, indifferent to them. And with a sudden, crystal-clear realization, Grace knew she couldn't tolerate it anymore.

“Here,” she’d said, her voice surprisingly steady, as she’d thrown a bag filled with his belongings at him. “I cleaned everything up! Now one last thing: get out of my house! We’re done!”

Now, leaning against the closed guesthouse door, the adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a profound exhaustion. She was free. But the silence felt heavy, a vast emptiness stretching before her. A restless energy still buzzed beneath her skin, a lingering tension from the day's confrontations.

With a sigh, Grace had moved toward her bedroom, seeking solace in the mundane. Perhaps tidying up would clear her mind, just like she'd cleared her life of Luke. Little did she know, this quiet act of domesticity was merely the prelude. In just a few hours, exhaustion would be the least of her worries. What was coming next would shatter everything she thought she knew, and change her life forever.