Tia
It Kavand the morning I was to carry out phase one of my plan, just like the last day of my house arrest when I was still with my father.
But this time, the rain poured heavier, uncontrollable, as if sensing what laid ahead of me. Maybe it bled for me, cried for me, because I couldn’t seem to express the growing ache in my chest.
It was fear, that much I knew, that much I expected. But the reality of it didn’t hit until the day arrived. I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, letting the rhythmic patter of the rain against the window calm me in spite of my raging thoughts.
As much as Owen had assured me it was okay to lose, that trying was what mattered the most, losing wasn’t an option. Exposing the Rossis was my responsibility, the cross I had chosen to carry. But it wasn’t
