Marsai:
I could feel every gaze in the room pinned on me, thick with astonishment.
What were they expecting?
That I’d stop the guards, nurse Aya and Zoe’s wounds, and prepare a feast in their honor?
That I’d kneel before them, apologize for having them punished—because they were my sisters?
Oh, no.
That version of me? The naïve, forgiving Marsai?
She’s long gone.
I was done playing the perfect, gentle sister. The one who endured their cruelty in silence, who let them torment me, humiliate me, and nearly kill me.
Not anymore.
“Baby, isn’t that too much?” Miles’ voice broke through the tension, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His expression was unreadable.
I laughed. A low and bitter chuckle.
“No, Miles,” I said, turning to him with a smirk. “They deserve it.”
