My Dying Breath, His Endless Regret
r down the long, private road. Th
was utter
d kid, and a boy had found me crying behind a tent. He' d given me a guitar pick and told me my sadness would make beautiful
sical reminder of my reality. I stumbled back inside the cold, empty house. There was no one to call, no on
glass of water, my hand shaking so badl
startling me. I was
porch. She was beautiful, poised, the golden child of the family. Sh
de without an invitation. "I was so worr
king in the expensive, minimalist decor. She r
her voice dripping with false sympathy. "He
, Savannah?" I as
just wanted to see how you were holding up. It mu
u can tell Liam the truth about that night three years
er, my blood
th malice, "that I drugged his drink and put you in his b
/0/93632/coverorgin.jpg?v=323632e4ac024375de5ec954ffd77667&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86395/coverorgin.jpg?v=55bb4b33b13d15db79b49aea662af755&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100496/coverorgin.jpg?v=c5cb6898ea82160755e6bbb1255517a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/78800/coverorgin.jpg?v=767bbf56f1262f093e5e6fb728879971&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/72386/coverorgin.jpg?v=7b4e9f94ea6958f205248ec1450c94f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/73883/coverorgin.jpg?v=1d6648a2866aafa919b160ad5a001afc&imageMogr2/format/webp)