Josie
I turned over on the bed for what felt like the hundredth time, the sheets tangling around my legs like they were trying to trap me in the very cage of my thoughts. My chest ached, heavy with the weight of betrayal that I couldn't shake no matter how tightly I hugged myself. The memory of Michelle's mocking voice, her words about Kiel knowing the truth, clung to me like poison.
Every moment I had spent with him, every promise he had whispered, every time he swore I was safe in his arms—was it all a lie? If he had known, if he had truly known, then what did that make me? A fool? A replacement? Something he kept close out of pity, out of guilt?
The tears I had been holding back all morning burned behind my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn't change anything. Crying wouldn't erase the hollow pain of realizing the one person I trusted most might have been keeping the darkest truth from me.
