“Just because you can’t remember doesn’t mean you didn’t do it,” she tossed over her shoulder. Astaroth made a frustrated sound. “And is my entire worth and identity boiled down to one incident? Will you always look at me and see the demon who hurt your friends, no matter what else I do or say?” She was taken aback by the bitterness in his voice. Maybe the alcohol had broken his composure, the way being contacted by her mother had broken hers. Maybe both of them had learned too well how to shield themselves from the world.
