Petra's POVI stood outside Dahlia's room, hand on the doorknob, listening for a sound or movement, but there was nothing.Either she was asleep or dead.Part of me hoped for death. The shameful, ugly part that lived in my chest like a tumor. The part that had been growing since Illara got sick and everything started falling apart.I turned the knob. The door opened with a soft creak that sounded too loud in the quiet hallway.The curtains were drawn, leaving everything dim and shadowed, but I could see her on the bed.She was curled on her side, one hand on her swollen stomach, the other clutched in the sheets. Her hair was matted, stuck to her forehead with sweat. Even in sleep, her face was tight with pain.She looked like hell.Good, the next thing was to send her to hell.I moved closer, footsteps silent on the carpet. I should have felt sorry for her, but I didn't because she was nothing but a weed that had to be removed.Dahlia's eyes opened, then sharpened when she saw me."Pe
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