They Called Me a Squatter in My Own Home
Right onto the delicate crystal lid of the piano.
A sickening crunch echoed through the room.
A gaping hole shattered the piano's perfect, transparent surface.
Countless shards of crystal exploded outwards, along with splintered keys.
Each fragment caught the light, a blinding glare. Just like my heart, shattered into a million pieces.
"Oops," Amber said, her face a mask of fake shock. Then, the mask dropped, replaced by a triumphant, cruel smile. "My bad," she cooed.
She closed the distance between us and yanked my head back by the hair. Her sharp nails dug into my scalp.
Bab Populer