Dos’s Point of View
I couldn’t shake the guilt. It was crawling beneath my skin, burrowing deep like a slow-burning poison.
What I said to June earlier… it wasn’t just harsh—it was unforgivable.
I didn’t mean those words. God, I didn’t. But they came out anyway. And the look on her face when I said them? That will haunt me.
She’s not just anyone. She’s not some stranger I barely know or a woman I could brush aside.
She’s June.
And the moment I saw her holding that red folder—that folder with her childhood photos—I froze.
My entire body tensed. My thoughts scattered. My mask slipped.
Because I knew what would happen next. The moment her eyes landed on those pictures, she’d remember. Her past would come flooding back—every wound, every shadowed corner of her childhood, everything she
