Arwen didn't know what she was feeling inside. She thought that finally learning what had happened to her —how she had really lost her memories —things would somehow get better.
But now that the truth had been laid bare, she wasn't sure anymore. Maybe ignorance would have been kinder. Maybe, if she hadn't known, she wouldn't have to live with gnawing dread that for more than half of her life, she had been carrying the scars of something so cruel without even realizing it.
Her chest felt tight, her breaths uneven. The file lay on the desk between her and Reese like a silent monster, its pages heavy with truths she didn't want to read. She wanted to push it away, to deny it, to go back to the moment before Reese had spoken. But she couldn't.
Because now she knew. And once known, it couldn't be undone.
Reese gave her the time to process it. He didn't hurry her; rather, he waited patiently. He knew what she was going through was something no one else could truly understand.
