THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE
I hold her face in my hands, desperate, whispering softer now.
“You’re all I’ve got left, honey. Don’t make me bury you too.”
And for the briefest moment—just the faintest tremor—her lips twitch.
A sign of life. Fragile, but there.
Jewel
The sound of his voice cracks something deep inside me. For days I’ve been nothing, an empty shell. But when he says Don’t make me bury you too, the words pierce through the fog, sharp and brutal.
My knees give way before I can stop them. The floor meets me hard, and I crumble against it, hands trembling as I cover my face. The tears tear out of me raw, unstoppable. I cry like I’ve been holding my breath for years, not days.
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