I find it hard to still accept that all I had known was a lie. My friend of many years, whom I relied on, had played me for a fool; we spent so much time together, and I just cannot stop wondering why.
I don't sleep; sleep would require silence, and my mind has none.
Every time I close my eyes, the past rearranges itself, scenes I thought I understood now warped by intention, by hands I never saw guiding me toward pain with patient precision.
Memories don't change, but the meaning does, and fresh meaning to overlooked incidents is the cruelest knife of all.
Tiffany's voice lives in my head.
You're strong. You'll get through this.You're imagining things.Don't trust your instincts so much; they'll only hurt you.
I press my palms against my temples, rocking slightly on the edge of the bed in my previous wing of the estate. Adrian insisted I stay close. As if proximity alone might stitch me back together.
It doesn't.
