The bathroom is fading around me, fighting with the image of Shorty’s bedroom in the basement of the Taylor House and all the times he hurt me. Manipulated me. Slapped me around simply because he could. Because I was too weak to leave. Too desperate for his attention. Too pathetic. A gentle touch grips my chin, and Buchanan turns me to face him again. “No lying, remember?” A sad smile graces my lips as I process his words.
💔😭 I feel for her. But she needs to let him in
