I didn’t know how long I stayed crouched there by the abandoned bakery. My legs were stiff, my back ached, and my head was pounding. Everything felt heavy—my clothes, my limbs, my thoughts.
It was dark now, probably around seven or eight. I couldn’t be sure; I had no way of checking. I’d left my phone back at the mansion, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why. What was I even thinking? Why would I leave my phone behind if I didn’t plan to run away for good?
Now I was sure this was it. I was going to die here. Alone. In the rain. Like some tragic figure from a bad novel.
My mind wandered to my mother. What would she think? Would she even find out about this? Would anyone bother to tell her? I shook my head, or maybe it was the dizziness doing it for me. My thoughts felt disjoin
