Savannah
No one was actively monitoring me, but the bedroom had become a cage.
I felt like I was counting down the seconds to a bomb explosion, and that bomb had a name: Sasha’s mother. They were coming for dinner tonight.
A mother knows her child. It’s an unshakable truth.
She would take one look at me and know. She would see the fraud in my eyes.
This wild coincidence of our shared faces would crumble under a mother’s gaze. And what would happen to me then?
I found myself standing before Sasha’s portrait again, arms crossed over my chest.
“Are you going to help me through this?” I whispered to the painted face that was my own. “Or are you mad at me for being here?”
I let out a humorless laugh, realizing I was having a one-sided conversation with a ghost.
“Maybe I should just go.
