“A phone call, Starbright? Is the school burning down? Have you castrated a young, enamored boy? Are you finally coming home?” Matteo’s voice settles into my skin like a throbbing wound. I feel like I need to scrub my skin the second I get off the phone, regardless of the fact that I only just showered. The banter didn’t feel fun anymore; it hasn’t felt fun in a long time. Now all I can hear is the possession in his dulcet tones. He’s speaking to someone he thinks he owns.
