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It’s funny she still thinks she has any control here. She’ll learn eventually, though. She’ll have no choice. For now, I have to break her. I have to break her in the only way I know how.
“It’s so much more than that, Mari. We both know it. There’s beauty in it. In pain. In suffering. In fear.”
How could I have ever written something so horrible without feeling this fear, without living what my characters were living?
Some part of me is a fighter—the embodiment of the strong women I’ve spent the past thirteen years of my life writing about. I can’t let that part down.
