“How did he do it?” I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat. “A sword.” He sighs through his nose. “After he dragged the blade down my neck,” I continue, lifting my chin so he can see the familiar scar in the pale light, “he told me he’d leave his mark on my heart, so I never forget who it was that broke it.” He inches closer, eyes trained on the mangled skin beginning to scar. His voice is icy, sending a shiver down my spine. “It’s an O.” I nod. “For—” “Ordinary,” he finishes, disgusted. “He tortured you, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
