She Was Sitting In My Front-Row Seat Holding My Novel — Smiling Like She Had Stolen My Life

being chosen over someone I thought was weak.”

The orange trees rustled faintly in the conservatory beyond the room.

A heating vent clicked.

Celeste swallowed.

“I am sorry.”

The apology sat between us.

Not enough.

Not useless.

Just there.

I folded my hands.

“I will not carry your shame for you.”

Her eyes filled.

She nodded.

That was all.

Daniel’s fall was quieter.continue reading …