The apartment had never felt so quiet. Selena sat perched on the edge of the armchair, her elbows resting on her thighs, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. The fabric beneath her was rough against her skin, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were locked on the floor. An unmoving gaze fixated on a smudge near the leg of the coffee table that she'd been meaning to clean for days, or was it weeks? She couldn't remember anymore. Time had lost shape, and all she felt now was the dull throb of guilt clinging to her like a second skin.
Jennette and Sam had just left. Their visit had been unexpected, overwhelming… and painfully kind.
Jennette, with her soft eyes and quiet strength, had every reason to scream, to lash out, to throw every betrayal back in Selena's face. But she didn't. She offered something Selena hadn't expected. Grace. A quiet, devastating grace that hurt more than any slap ever could.
