10
Mara.
I don’t remember falling asleep. I just remember the taste of Gabriel’s mouth, the sting of his hands, the heavy weight of his arms holding me after everything had burned out between us. It’s the first time in my life I feel spent, not just tired, but wrung out and emptied, all the fight and anger gone. I wake with my cheek pressed to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and strong, even if his breath comes in little hitches. I stay still, listening, hoping if I don’t move the world won’t come for us yet.
Morning comes anyway. The church bells ring. Light creeps through the curtains. The air is too clear, too cold. I want to burrow under the covers and pretend there’s nothing out there but us, but I hear voices downstairs; Mrs. Dunn and someone else, their words clippe
