Sara Michaels
I made it to the bedroom without falling apart in front of them. The stairs felt longer tonight, each step heavier, like my body was carrying more than just my weight. Emily’s voice followed me up—“Hurry up, Sara, Tommy and I are starving!”—high and sweet and cruel, the pout in her words making my stomach turn.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t look back. Just kept moving until I reached the door and slipped inside.
I closed it softly. Locked it. Leaned against it with my forehead pressed to the wood, breathing in short, shaky bursts. The room was dark. I didn’t turn on the light.
Didn’t want to see my reflection in the mirror, didn’t want to see the red mark blooming on my cheek or the blood still dried at the corner of my lip.
I walked to the bed on legs that felt like they mi
