As the acrid sting passed, there was clearer air. She gulped it in. For the first time, it did not sting. The decaying city-state still surrounded her, but she dragged herself upright, quickened by the release from bondage. Sunlight. No more guilt, no more loyalty. For what? To be slapped again? She had remarked in the suffocating cell below that she had no family. The unfeeling reply of "Make your own" made her choke on her own vulnerability.
She was done. Why waste the effort on the dead? Why waste the effort on the hateful living? She left them unburied, for they had already built their own tombs. The Drunkard, who sliced opened hearts with words. The Narcissist, who thought only of himself and used others for gain. The Closed-Heart, who was unable to extend even a hand. A family of Vampires who were only capable of drawing blood and leaving death behind. Sans remorse.
Now, the lack of remorse was hers to gather and gird upon herself. The city around her would slip further into grey stillness. It was time to depart. Never look back.