Veronica
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I am frozen in place, my eyes unseeing the luxury around me to which I am so comfortably used by now. Am I even alive? Do I deserve to be alive if what that person is telling me by the phone is true?
“Gen?” Ian waves, trying to bring my attention back to the present, the concern in his face both alarming and warming to my dying soul.
My hands grip the phone with new strength, the decision taken immediately.
“Where are you?” The words barely escape my lips but I say them nonetheless. No response comes. “Geneva? Tell me where you are, Geneva. How can I help you?”
“Who said I needed help, sister?” I can hear the cruel heartless laughter from the other end of the line. Chills run down my spine yet I still fight with the realisation, not ready to le
