The moment Dawson left my room, my legs suddenly felt weak.
As if the little strength I'd been holding onto had finally given up.
I slowly walked toward the edge of the bed and sat down.
My knees and my fingers trembled.
Even my breathing became uneven.
I stared blankly at the floor trying really hard to calm myself down but it wasn't working.
I rubbed my face and let out a breath.
"What is happening to my life?" I whispered.
I shook my head because the question felt pointless now.
Every day seemed to bring a new disaster and every day someone else appeared with another secret or threat.
I clenched my hands together and then unclenched them because I was trying to ground myself to stay present.
Trying not to think about what Richard must have done or about Dawson's threat,
