sia

ord tearing from my raw t

amining her perfectly manicured nails, as if my e

tion of power," she said, her voice bored

was. The final, messy piec

n my cheeks. The finality of it crashed down on m

ed me. Not f

sent him that morning, ju

ait to be

y foreve

more than

e was busy. The truth was so much wo

phone was inside. They hadn't taken it. An

I found his number. T

ang

voice was clipped

hed, a sob catch

rd a shard of ice. "This number is for Fa

hun

my ear, a sound more v

mb hitting redial wit

. The number you have dia

ing against the cold tile floor. The sound echo

was worse than the bullet wound.

t left me. He

of sterile solitude and Bella's relentless

corpion's daughter.

fused to believe the loving father who taught me to ride a bike

im. Just like Dante had

had t