დ Rosalie დ
I sat on the bench for so long that the cold started creeping through my coat and into my bones, but I barely felt it.
Julian Ashford.
My father.
The truth kept circling back through my mind, each time hitting a different part of me. My anger. My shame. My confusion. My disgust. None of it settled. It just kept moving. Shifting. Getting worse. The fountain hissed softly in front of me. People moved through the square in ones and twos. A couple passed hand in hand. An old man crossed toward the pharmacy. Somewhere behind me, a car rolled slowly past, tires whispering over wet road.
Everything looked the same.
Nothing was.
I had spent years believing I was just another mistake this town enjoyed picking apart. A poor girl. A quiet girl. An easy target standing too close to
