Kyria
But when I opened the door, it was only the house bot delivering a water tray and snack. I ignored the clinking and moved past it into the common area.
The smart TV was still on from earlier— Lassy must have left it running. A cheesy romance flick was playing. I watched absently as the heroine pulled away from the lover in slow motion, dramatic music swelling beneath her tears. She ran.
He chased her; in the next scene, he found her just in time.
I sighed.
Life didn’t mirror fiction. If I left, who would even look for me if not for the fact that they don’t want to lose their money?
I hated it, I hated him, and I hated myself too; I can’t even breathe without wondering if I was killing him.
I put off the TV; my palm was sweaty.
When the digital clock on my nightstand blinked
