Darren
I felt like a fool.
More than that, really. A moron, a pawn—an outright i***t. And what burned worse than the shame itself was the realization that I had let it go on for so long.
For years, I had been in the palm of Sarah’s hand, letting her spin her little web of manipulations, every lie laced with poison in little pill-sized doses.
And I had willingly swallowed each and every one.
Because I had stupidly believed her. I’d believed her ridiculous claims about nursing me back to health when I was a pup, believed that those green eyes of hers belonged to the little girl who had saved my life. When she had come around the corner and confessed, I hadn’t questioned it.
I chalked up the inconsistencies to time, to age. A little less sparkle in her gaze? The green
