(Sloane’s POV)The sunlight today was different. It was sharper, colder, slicing through the gaps in the blinds like a reminder that the world hadn't stopped turning just because mine had fractured.I didn't linger in bed. I couldn't. The sheets felt abrasive against my skin, every movement bringing back a phantom sensation of a velvet chair and the salt-slicked heat of the back room. I moved like I was made of glass.In the bathroom, steam began to fog the mirror. I didn't over-analyze what had happened. I didn't have the stomach for it. The flashbacks came anyway, jagged and strobe-lit. Leon's eyes blown wide and dark. The rhythmic thud of the table against the wall. The way the air had tasted of sweat and expensive gin.Then, I saw it.I tilted my chin up, pushing my hair back. A small, dark smudge sat just above my collarbone. A bruise. It was from where his hand had anchored me, fingers digging in while he u
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-23
Se connecter
