She’d possessed the beauty of an untamed flame, destructive and wild. My whole life, I’d been told that I was a spitting image of her. I’d never had the chance to be wild and untamed, though. Always felt more like the flame in those electric fireplaces—a fake contained by glass, without much potential to do anything. Life had shackled me the moment she’d gotten sick, and somehow, I just couldn’t break from those chains.
