Ariel Gonzales.
Kelly is holding my hand like she thinks I’m about to strangle my own husband. The audacity. She pushes my hand back, forcing me to stumble a step. She plants herself in front of Ramirez like some righteous shield, screaming, Look at me! I’m the good one here!
At first, I stormed out of that room angry—furious—because I knew it had to be Ramirez who locked me in there. But now? Now, anger doesn’t even cover it. My chest feels tight, and I swear, if I wasn’t already cried out from being stuck in that stupid room, I might just cry all over again. But instead, all I feel is a boiling mix of rage and something I can’t even name.
I glance at Ramirez, and then at her. And then back at Ramirez. What even is this? I’m holding on for dear life here, trying to stay, trying to be w
