Black Crimson: A Little Red Riding Hood Story
Swinging a glare back to me, he growled, “You wrote the damn article. You. Why would you even do that if you never intended for anyone to see it?”
“I wrote it because it was my version of closure,” I repeated, shaking my head and not sure how else to explain my need to complete my journey. “I spent two years researching Black Crimson and trying to figure out who you were and why you did what you did, and when I finally got my answers, it would’ve felt like a loose end still hanging there in my face if I didn’t write what I’d always wanted to write.”
“Well, you got your dream,” he told me quietly, his tight smile full of false sincerity. “It’s written. And published. Congratulations.”
Bab Populer