By the time I reached my room again, the adrenaline had worn off.
My hands shook as I closed the door. My knees felt weak.
I paced once twice, then sank down on the edge of the bed and stared at my palms.
There were faint crescent moons where my nails had bitten into my own skin.
I hated that my eyes were wet again. Hated that my chest hurt.
I pressed my palms to my thighs.
*You’re allowed to be scared,* I told myself. *You’re not allowed to be stupid.*
Crying in front of them would have been stupid.
Crying here, alone, for a minute, wasn’t.
A tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it away angrily.
“I won’t die for you,” I said again into the empty room. “Any of you.”
The words steadied me.
I lay back on the bed for a moment, staring up at the familiar crack in the ceiling, letting m
