Celia's POV
Celia sat on the broken rooftop of a half-ruined high-rise.
She was perched on the thick railing at the edge, knees pulled tightly to her chest.
Her faint sobs slipped out despite her attempts to muffle them.
Her heart was heavy.
She felt as though a rope was tightening around her neck, suffocating her.
A part of her wished she had never asked for the truth.
She had wanted answers, but the answers had torn her apart.
Her brother, the one she had leaned on all her life, and the governor she had admired… both of them had been committing unspeakable crimes.
Celia didn't know what to do.
She felt small again, like the helpless girl who had once tried to run from her home, from the people who killed her family.
Her breaths grew shallow.
The suffocating feeling spread through her body until it felt like her lungs might collapse.
Then, a calm voice broke through.
"Aren't you cold?"
Her head jerked up.
