CHAPTER 24: Puppeteer's Strings

Sarah

I clenched my fist in a surge of anger so intense that it felt like it was suffocating me. The symptoms I frequently experience—difficulty breathing, dizziness, shortness of breath—are all manifestations of panic attacks. They don't signify heart failure.

As I stood on the balcony, desperately gasping for air amidst the storm of emotions raging inside me, the glass door suddenly slid open, unveiling Bronn. The unexpected encounter caught us both off guard.

"What a surprise, Sarah! Hang on, are you crying?" Bronn's concern was evident.

I hastily wiped away my tears, attempting to dismiss them with a wave of my hand. "It's nothing! I'm just pissed!"

Rage consumes me like a blazing inferno! It's as if I've learned absolutely nothing from enduring three agonizing years of manipulation!

"By the way, you look good in green!" Bronn offered a compliment.

"Thank you," I managed to say, though tears threatened to spill once more.

For a year now, I've worn black as a consta