Aria’s hands burned.

Even with the leather gloves that were thrust on her by Lily, she had still suffered many scratches on her arms.

The blood was sticky, too sticky.

It was thick and by the time she had reached the courtyard, it had already dried. The dried blood clung to the crevices of the stone floor. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that the blood actually belonged there.

Aria’s fingers were raw as she continued scrubbing, her breathing was rough, her ...