Maria
My fingers tremble as I clutch the phone. I need to do something ... anything to save Mikhail and my dad from their hell-bent destruction. I begin typing out a text.
"Dad, I need you ..."
I hesitate as I debate whether to send it. I hold the phone in both hands as if chanting a prayer over it and staring into the screen. All the things Mikhail said to me—loving things that make me forget what he is—and then he ran off after reading the text on my phone.
Nothing has changed.
He'll never change.
Mikhail uses his charm to keep me in check.
But what if he really meant it?
Maybe I shouldn't do this, and my thumb hovers over the text to delete it. It wasn't that long ago my dad attacked a boy for kissing me at a party, and Mikhail has done a lot more than that. Sending the text is
