Cindy
The question hung in the air, sharp and cutting.
“What do you want in here, Cindy?”
Kimberly’s voice dripped with irritation, her posture stiff as she clutched the bed sheet around her like a queen protecting her throne. Her tone wasn’t curious or kind…it was defensive, challenging.
She knew I didn’t belong here, not anymore, and she made sure to remind me of that with every syllable.
Her words were like daggers, cutting into me with ruthless precision.
My heart pounded, anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
How dare she? How dare she look at me like that, speak to me like I was some intruder in a place that used to feel like home?
I let my eyes sweep over the room once more. Every inch of it was familiar. The leather chair in the corner, where Kendrick used to sit late
