Marie's POV
The mirror was not very kind to the mind. I hated to look at it. It reminded me that I was not mistress of the house, only a prisoner.
It was late in the afternoon, and I had done nothing but stay in my room and stare at the mirror. I wanted to remind myself why I needed to help myself cause there was no one to help me.
My lips were still swollen, a purple-red sting across the curve of them, and though there was no bleeding, I guessed it must have bled last night. Whenever I'm with Mancini for the night, I like to mask my emotions and try not to feel. Sometimes I can't tell when the pain is there.
