EuniaIn my first life, Kruska never talked about her family. Not once.It was as if her past didn’t exist, like some dark, sealed vault she dared no one to touch. No names, no stories, not even a slip of detail. Whenever the subject came up, she’d spiral; snapping, sulking, or throwing one of her trademark tantrums that could turn an entire room ice-cold in seconds.I remember one night especially.“Kruska, you have very pretty blue eyes, and your hair is the perfect shade of blonde. Do you get them from your mommy or your daddy?” Mother once asked while we were little, sitting in the living room around the fireplace.I already knew Kruska's true colors then, so I just sat there on the rug, watching her maliciously take all of my mother's attention. Seated on her lap, Kruska didn’t respond. Instead, her face crumpled into a small, trembling frown before she started sniffling and sobbing like her whole world had just shattered.“Why are you crying, my angel?” Mother asked worriedly, c
อ่านเพิ่มเติม
เข้าสู่ระบบ
