This isn’t like her. She was lying. She’s fucking miserable here. She’s gone. Something’s happened. She’s been in an accident. She’s hurt or harmed or fuck, arrested. She’ll wither away in a place like prison. That would be worse than death for a woman like Sloane. Can you fucking imagine? Shy and acerbic Sloane Sutherland, surrounded by people twenty-four hours a day, never able to find a safe space to hide?
Breathe my guy
