My Mafia Mate
But I focused on the cool water streaming from the tap, letting its gentle cascade rinse the abrasions on my wrists.
The water ran red, merging with the crimson imprints of the rough ropes. Gazing at the pattern it made as it spiraled down the drain, I felt detached, numb, like I was floating outside of my body and watching from a distance. The intense pain, not just in my wrists but a deep-seated ache in my skull, snapped me back to reality.
“You should have fought,” Ema’s voice growled within, fierce and primal. “I was so close to giving you my power until he pulled out Daisy’s picture. But your fear held you back.”
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