Aurelia Shaw's hand gripped the knife handle, the blade stabbing into Alaric Wood's abdomen.
"You still chose him." Alaric gave a powerless, bitter smile, his weak voice murmuring by Aurelia's ear, "Don't trust Mason Nightshade. Don't believe anything he says."
What was that supposed to mean? Aurelia had no time to think it through. She whispered a soft "sorry," pushed Alaric away, opened the door, and fled.
She couldn't bring herself to trust someone who didn't exist in her memories.
No matter how sincere Alaric sounded, how real he seemed, how easily he could shake her, she still couldn't believe him.
Because.
She already couldn't believe anyone anymore.
People are too good at acting. She could tell most of the time whether someone was lying, but she could never be one hundred percent sure no one would deceive her.
The death and torture she'd suffered in her previous life had taught her that you can't trust anyone.
People, they're all actors.
