AMELIA

I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling and counting the crystals on my chandelier for the tenth time since morning. Despite waking up hours ago, I lack the motivation to get out of bed, feeling utterly drained before even starting my day. Maybe it’s because what happened last night knocked some reality into me and has me pondering over them.

My hand drifts unconsciously to my neck, the memory of what transpired replaying in my mind. The bruise from Nickolas's grip has likely ...