Dying Was Easier Than Loving Him
“She has been lying since the day I was born. Why should I care what a bunch of corrupt elders write down in their dusty ledgers?”
“Because if you do not speak, they will treat her like a victim instead of a monster,” a quiet voice spoke from the hallway.
Amelia stepped into the kitchen, wrapped in an oversized fleece hoodie, her damp hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She looked pale, the dark circles under her eyes revealing how little she had slept, but her posture was surprisingly steady for someone who had just discovered she was born a genetic experiment.
I stopped pacing, my chest rising and falling as I met her gaze. “Amelia, you should be resting in bed.”