I went about my morning routine in a daze, my mind buzzing with questions that refused to quiet down no matter how hard I tried. All I wanted was the damn answers to my questions and yet I got nothing.
How is it possible for two sisters to drift so far apart that they’d willingly try to kill each other?
I don’t have a sibling, obviously. My adoptive parents never had a child of their own and they never adopted anyone else after me. But still, even if I did have a sibling, I can’t imagine ever hurting them, let alone killing them.
That kind of hatred—the kind that runs deep enough to want a loved one’s blood is foreign to me. It feels like something that only happens in books and movies, but not in real life. And yet… here we are, so I guess it does happen.
After showering and changing,
