Her silent presence had always lingered in the back of my mind.
The night I was bought by the Pearl Manor, Johanna said my fever was so high she thought I was sure to die. My body burned continuously for days, I hardly remember anything from that time―but there was one thing, I thought it was a dream.
Everything was dark about that room, everything too cold, too unreal.
But she never left my side, changing the damp cloth on my forehead every minute. She was always silent, but her eyes were filled with regret and pain. Every feverish night, she held me close, caressing my back, trying to lull me to sleep while my mind was lost somewhere in between.
It has to be a dream.
She had treated me like a monster and neglected me like I was only meant to be abhorred. She was always so distant, so cold―and I was always broken in her eyes, there was always a repulsion in her gaze, and she never stopped picking all my weaknesses apart and shoving them into my face.
