I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I wore this exact same outfit for a long, long time. The shapeless white linen dress that seems to glow in the desert sun. So why do I feel so uncomfortable in it now?
The jeans and t-shirt I had on when I ran from Phoenix’s mansion have been shoved into the darkest corner of my wardrobe. If I had to guess, I’d bet that Anna’s blood is still dried into the fabric.
Anna. Phoenix. Astra Tyrannis.
The names swirl around in my head, but they seem vague and unreal now. I’m back on the Sanctuary, where I belong. Those things? They’re just a bad dream that won’t go away.
I have a future here. Those things are the past.
The problem with the past, though, is that it’s never quite as done with you as you are with it.
Josiah can see it in my eyes sometime
