Chapter 144

Cecelia's POV.

The tears were the worst part, really. They weren't the quiet, cleansing kind of sadness. These were fat, ugly, hot drops that leaked out of my eyes and ran down my face, tasting like salt and failure.

I wasn’t just sad.

I was aching.

A low, vibrating hum of frustration had settled deep in my bones, a note so sour it curdled every thought I tried to form. It wasn't just one thing, but the sum of everything—a heavy, suffocating blanket of wrongness that I ...