DEA
He looked like he poured a dozen buckets of ice after hearing my words. Backing immediately, he lifted his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.
“Alright, alright. I am not going to get any closer to you,” he says softly, his voice gentler now. “I won’t. I promise. Just…just talk to me, please. What happened? Why did you run?”
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers gripping tightly at my arms as I tried to steady myself, but the words feel tangled and dense in my chest.
“I don’t want to be her,” I whisper, the confession slipping out before I could stop it.
His brows knit as confusion crossed his face. “Mo bheatha, what are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to be Maria,” I said again, louder this time, my voice breaking as I finally looked up at him. “Please, don’t call me th
