“So no, you’re totally right. It’s not fair! It’s not ‘fair’ that I’m constantly accused of lying when I’m the only one here who’s ever actually told the f*****g truth!”
I don’t wait for her response. It’s not worth the headache or heartache or all-over ache. I just want to be alone. I don’t even care if my old room by Willow’s is occupied by someone else now—I’ll kick them out if I have to.
When the door opens easily and I see it’s back to how I used to have it, down to the placement of my collected knickknacks on the bookshelves, I burst into sobs.
And then I start ripping my clothes off.
Because in reality, they’re not “my” clothes. They’re Oleg’s. I couldn’t escape his nightmare realm without being covered in his clothes and in his scent. Even now, as buttons fly and I tear the shi
