A week of Karina crying nonstop and trying to console me, only for me to shut the door in her face. Konstantin tried, too, but he was also given the cold shoulder. Not even Anna has been allowed to touch me. Apparently, Viktor told the family about Sasha’s identity so they know she’s a woman and my wife. Was. Fuck. I still can’t believe she became a was. Still, I didn’t accept anyone’s condolences. I don’t need fucking emotions. I murdered them a long time ago, and they’re not coming back. All this dizziness, disorientation, and pure fucking mania is a translation of my need for revenge.
