June – POV
The door slammed.
I sat there frozen, staring at the sterile wall where Nate had stood.
"Sleep tight, Number Twelve."
His voice echoed in my skull like a curse. A trigger. A gunshot.
And then the screaming started.
But it wasn't from the hallway.
It was from me.
A scream that didn't sound like mine. A sound that came from somewhere deeper. Somewhere buried beneath all the fake smiles, all the manicured lies, all the glittering gowns and guarded flirtation.
This was her. The real me. The broken one.
"NO!" I shrieked, thrashing against the padded wall like it could give me something—anything—back. "YOU FUCKING LIAR! YOU FUCKING—"
I choked, bile rising in my throat as I collapsed again.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
The lights were too bright. The walls were too white.
I clawed at my arms, desperate to feel something real. My nails left trails of red. Good. Let them. Maybe the blood would prove I was still here.
He was never here to help me.
