have hurt people, Eris. I have been responsible for so much death, and it—I don’t—I cannot carry it well.” My fingers twist in my lap. “I want to be a Gearbreaker. So very much. But I feel this … this … terrible thing I have inside me. One I forced to grow because I needed that kind of control, that anger, to numb me. I do not know if I can ever stop myself from needing it, from craving it. I just … I am so scared that I am never going to be good.” A hand slides over mine, finds a hold. Squeezes hard, black, chipped paint scattering the nails. “You don’t have to be good. You just have to be
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