d wipers. My aunt's words echoed in my head, a terrible loop of failure. She saw something on the new

a plastic chair, her face pale and tear-streaked. She pointed down a

bed. Wires and tubes connected her to a symphony of beeping machines. A small television mounted in the corner of the room was on

k, trembling hand lifted from the sheets. I rushed to

a dry rasp. "That man... on the TV

out, my own tears blurring her face. "It's al

e... my sweet girl. They made you look... ashamed." Her breath hitched, and the

I'm right here. I'm okay,

on't let them break you," she rasped, her eyes locking ont

hut. The beeping of the monitor becam

muffled, as if coming from underwater. Someone was shouting. The long, unwavering note from the machine was the on

g room. My aunt was holding a cup of water to my li

e weight of them crashed down, a physical force that stole my breath.

g a casket. My aunt was too distraught, so I moved through the tasks with a mechanical, empty precision.

leaving Ethan. The rain had stopped. The city lights felt garish and offensive.

I f

ed out, along with the sound of a woman's laughter.

ept forward, my body rigid with a new,

. Her arms were wrapped around his waist from behind, her head resting on his back. I recognized her instantly. Amelia Vance. A

o escape him. He had brought his new life into the ruins of our old one. The g

m light. He showed no surprise, no shame. He

smile playing on her lips. "Oh," she said, her

tly killed my grandmother for. "What is she d

one infuriatingly reasonable. "It's been a very st

him. My grandm

the words a raw tea

dramatic," he said, t

e sound ripping from my throat. "

looked at me not with remorse or pity, but with annoyance. As if my

turning to Amel

a single glance back. Amelia followed, pausing a

ey left behind was filled with the ghost of her laughter and the absolute certainty of

se. And in that emptiness, a plan began to form. A desperate, extreme plan. If the world believed I was his tragic muse, then I would give them a trage