Eleonore’s POV
Inside of me, there was something ripped from an arsenal of desolation, an uncapped barrel of sorrow and woe and the pain—something hollow, something beating. It was all I could think since the moment we had left that forest and had come back home.
As we walked through the un-echoing halls of the house, as we walked through the bedroom to the bathroom and the shower’s harsh sprays rained down upon me. The harsh spray was dull, but I was beginning to become too tired and too slow to acknowledge anything around me.
I didn’t know what it was that had caused me to dissociate like this. Maybe it was the look on Michael’s face when we had come back from that place, maybe it was the horrified one of Viktor’s as he looked down at his hands, as he pinched his skin so hard with his nails that he drew blood for the first time in…