It might be worth it or it might not be, and she’d never have to find out because it would never happen. If she went back, she’d hate herself, but it meant survival. It wasn’t that she couldn’t go back to her old life she could. Because what she’d told Cilla wasn’t true. And in that moment, with her enemy’s knife in her own hand, a point pressing on Cilla’s arm, Cilla’s skin familiar against hers, relief sneaked up on her and refused to let go. Not having a choice was the worst thing in the world.Īmara pushed the knife down. You were never safe as long as you were at someone else’s whim.Īmara’s eyes met Cilla’s, dark and beaten and haunted. The world always wanted people like her to believe those lies. However bad things were, you kept your head down and did as you were told in order to avoid worse.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |