The dawn did not bring light, only a gradual graying of the shadows. I woke not from sleep, but from a state of exhausted paralysis, my body feeling as if it had been filled with wet cement overnight.
Each limb was a dead weight. The simple act of drawing breath was a conscious, laborious effort. And my heart, it was no longer a beating organ but a cold, heavy stone lodged in my chest, dragging everything inward.
The night before played on a relentless loop behind my eyes. Sarah's voice, soft and syrupy, each word carefully placed. "He threatened me… I had no choice… I'm so sorry, Aria…" It was the same tone she used to use when soothing me after a nightmare,except now I could hear the calculation beneath the sweetness, the manipulation masquerading as vulnerability.
I didn't know what to trust. My own mind felt like a foreign country. The story was a puzzle piece forced into a space it didn't fit, its edges grinding against the picture of reality I thought I knew.
