Annabel rose to her feet. Her body felt like a foreign object, heavy and stiff. She walked slowly to the mirror on the wall.
The person staring back at her was a stranger. Her face was swollen, and a dark bruise bloomed on her cheek.
The dried blood on her lip was a stark, ugly line. She looked hollow, like a piece of art that had been drained of color.
This wasn't her. She wouldn't let it be her.
She went to the closet and pulled out a large, black suitcase.
The sound of the zippers and the rustle of clothes was the only thing that broke the silence.
She began to pack, her movements precise and mechanical. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts. She was leaving.
Not because Victoria had told her to, but because staying another moment was a betrayal of herself.
The decis
