Aiden looks at me, his eyes full of worry. I can see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing what to say, how to calm me. His gaze flickers over me—like I’m something fragile, a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering. He’s worried that I’ll break. That I already have. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m already broken, too weak for this world. Maybe I never belonged here in the first place. I close my eyes in defeat, the weight of everything crashing down on me, suffocating me. The guilt, the grief. It all mixes into a thick, suffocating fog that I can’t escape. "I told her, Aiden," I whisper, my voice barely audible, choked with pain. "I told her that Henry raped her in her sleep." There’s a deep sigh, followed by his soft, almost tender voice. "Oh, shadow..." The words drip like honey, but they sting. The last thing I want right now is pity. His pity. I turn away from him, my body stiff and rigid, but even as I'm turned away, I can still feel his presence like a weight pressing
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