“Do you still remember how you got this scar?” Eloise stared at the scar and gently stroked it with her fingers, her voice trembling slightly, though she tried to hide it. Her fingertips traced the uneven ridges, as if trying to read the history engraved in his skin. Richard was weak, his breathing shallow and uneven. His face was pale, drawn tight with fatigue. After a long dragging silence, he finally said, “I don’t remember.” His voice was raspy, barely a whisper, like the memory itself was a fog he didn’t dare enter.Eloise leaned in closer, her face reflecting an unreadable mixture of sorrow and disbelief. “I do,” she murmured, her eyes flicking at his. “I was a kid, hiding behind my schoolbooks, trying to keep my head down." I was always trying to blend in, hoping no one would notice me. But they did. The older boys.” Her fingers tightened slightly on his shoulders, as if trying to hold herself together. “They shoved me around. They laughed at my clothes, at the way I spoke… I n
Last Updated : 2025-05-29 Read more