I unhooked the dress and turned around, and in that movement, I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. I had to stop myself from dropping the hanger. Gods. Was that me? My hair hung in dirty tangles over both shoulders, my cheeks sunken, ribs protruding. Two angry, pink scars sliced across my chest and abdomen. They cut across my forearms, too. If I held my arms the right way, I could see the unbroken lines that the whip had sliced in my flesh when I shielded myself. But when I turned, my back— My back was completely covered in deep, ferocious gouges. Some still bled, some had
...more
good lord
