[Fenrick]
I lay sprawled across the floor, my left arm resting above my eyes, shielding my vision. Scattered around me were papers and clothing I’d tossed while searching the bedroom.
I tried to ease my breathing, to stop my heart from pounding like it was about to tear through my ribs, but I couldn't.
Not after I'd rushed home. Not after I'd dug out the only photo I had of her.
Hilary.
In a way, she had always been the protagonist of my story. She was my muse and my downfall. But more than anything... she was my first love.
I lifted my hand from over my face to stare at the photo pinched between two fingers. In it was a woman with light brown hair and dark eyes. She had a small face and full lips that stretched into a smile—a real one. She was beautiful and unimaginably kind.
But
