Maya woke up comfortably, feeling secure in a way she hadn't for a long time. It was horrible waking up next to Wikly, his smell made her nauseous, and yet she was forced daily to say "good morning" and force a smile, but that was over now. Maya knew Wikly was alive, understood very well that Constantino tortured him, but felt nothing knowing that the hateful man suffered; it was as if a void had settled in her feelings about Wikly Jones, and she wished that one day she could pretend he had never existed.
She inhaled the scent of Anésio's chest, she was home, she would have to tidy up the disorderliness of that house, but even so, it was her home. She remained there, snuggled, not even opening her eyes, because she wanted to pretend she was sleeping.
“I know you're awake, short stuff.”
