"Stop," I whispered, pressing my palms against the cool glass of the window behind me. "You can't just say things like that and expect them to erase everything."
"I'm not trying to erase anything." He reached out slowly, telegraphing his movements like I was a wild animal that might bolt. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from my face, and I shivered at the contact. "I'm trying to show you who you really are."
"I know who I am," I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
"Do you?" His thumb traced along my cheekbone, and I hated how my body leaned into his touch despite my brain screaming at me to pull away. "Because the girl I've been watching all these years is brilliant, strong, resilient, and beautiful. She survived years of cruelty and still has enough compassion left to worry
