ca

's cremation, her ashes placed in a simple silver locket that I hung around my neck. It felt co

the marble. "He's not a good boy, Nana," I whispered, my voice thick. "But

buying, a place filled with three years of manufactured memories. As I stood outside the door, fumbling for my key

lt like a physical blow. My grief, which had been

n. It was Anthony. His smile faded when he

d, his tone fla

to enter. My feet felt like lead, but I

ouse. She looked up, her doll-like face arranged into an expression of sweet concern. Emmanuel' s

y, a primal reaction of prey sensing its predator. The dark closet, the

hy as she glided towards me. She was even more beautiful than I remembered, her b

kin, she leaned in close, her breath a poisonous whisper in my e

uote from one of her torm

ush, more a reflexive recoil, but Bianca was a master of theatre. She stumbled ba

lling with crocodile tears. "I

he casual amusement vanished from the twins

between us to shield Bianca. He looked at me as if I were a p

His words from the club echoed in my mind. This was the performance.

. I said nothing. I just turned to leave. I couldn't breathe

like iron. It was the first time he had ever laid a hand on me in an

aid, his eyes glittering with a cruel light. "She's ge

g to a dangerously low register. "She's been codd

rag me across the living room, past the open-con

g?" I struggled against his

orage closet. He unlocked it and threw it open, rev

oved

t as I scrambled back, my old phobia risi

s a perfect replica of the torment

e to be able to ride an elevator without hyperventilating. The man who had held me through my night

the other side of the door. "Think of it as punishment for a crime you didn't commit." His words

k click

kness. Absol

ts against the heavy wood until my kn

concerned cooing and the brothe

spered promise, every gentle touch replayed in my mind, now tainted and grotesque. All of it had been a lie. A performance.

ntimate, loving knowledge of my deepest fears. And as I sat there, suffocating i