Previous chapter:
Chapter 15: Shattered Reflections.
Next chapter:
Chapter 17: Minutes of Quiet
PREVIEW
... hand. My foot. My chest.
Everything hurt — but in a way that told me I was still here. Still breathing.
The morning light crept through the curtains, pale and soft, touching everything it shouldn’t. It made the dried blood on the floor shimmer faintly, like it was trying to make beauty out of the mess I’d made.
I blinked against the light, my eyes heavy, my throat dry.
The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and metal — Mother’s doing, probably.
Someone ha ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE






























