RAELYNN
My throat is raw. My eyes are sore. My chest is aching. My fingers are numb. My head is pounding. I have no concept of time. I spent my night crying and mourning my father. Every time I pictured him in that casket, my eyes watered, my chest seized. I couldn’t breathe, the memories of him and the memories we will never get to make left me numb and helpless. I cried so much that I seemed to have passed out, and when I woke, I sobbed even harder.
I can’t believe Killian did that. The messy stitches on my father’s neck are forever entrenched in the folds of my brain. I can't escape them, I can't escape the visualisation of Killian beheading him.
I’m still sobbing into the pillow when people started talking outside my door.
“That’s her?” Someone whispers.
“Yes,” another says. “That
