Mirabella's Pov

Two weeks.

I claw at my face, smash my head into the hard surface of the wall, and punch my fist into the same wall over and over again. A new kind of sorrow engulfs me and the urgent need to mourn my mother all over again surfaces.

In all the two weeks I’ve been locked up in this room and tortured mentally, I punished myself day after day and night after night, because I couldn’t do anything else to help myself. I mourned myself like a dead person while I’m still ...