Grace
"It was all a lie," I whispered to the empty room, pressing my forehead against my knees. "Every single bit of it."
The walls did not answer. The quiet of the house just sat there, heavy and suffocating, forcing the words back down my throat. My chest throbbed with a dull, heavy ache that made every breath feel like I was inhaling broken glass.
Dr. Fenn had been my anchor. When you grow up the way I did, moving from one foster home to another with everything you own packed into a black garbage bag, you learn to spot the people who look at you like a chore. You learn the sighs, the impatient glances, the way people cleared their throats when you walk into a room they wanted to use. Dr Fenn had never looked at me that way. He had been the closest thing I ever had to a father, the on
