Broken Ribbons, Diamond Wings Reclaiming My Crown

Trapped in this oceanfront villa for four agonizing years, my old iPad suddenly chimed with a Cloud Note notification.

The title read: [The Choice at Eighteen].

It was a cloud diary I wrote ten years ago as a naive high school girl.

In it, that young girl asked the future with wide-eyed hope:

[Is it worth giving up my spot at the Paris Opera Ballet Academy just to help Julian launch his startup?]

Every single word was soaked in the blind devotion of a girl in love.

I stared at the screen for a long time before slowly lowering my gaze.