ARC'S POV:
The rain hasn't stopped. Not really. It's lighter now, more of a mist than a downpour, but it still feels like the sky is mourning.
I haven’t moved from this bench in the park. Not since Aurora left. Not since she screamed at me like I was the villain in her story. Maybe I am.
I don't even feel the water soaking through my shirt anymore. My skin is numb. My thoughts are scattered, each one more painful than the last.
Her voice plays on repeat in my head; shaking, broken, furious.
"Your father killed my parents."
I clutch the back of my neck, fingers digging in until it hurts.
She looked at me like I was him. Like I pulled the trigger.
And maybe that’s what hurts the most. Not that she hates me. Not that she ran. But that for a split second, she saw me as the monster who
