HOPE
Just push through it, Hope. Zip through. Keep moving.
Self-talk is useless, but the rage? Oh, that keeps me warm—and the fucking satisfaction of hearing Josie wailing and fighting for her fucked-up life.
Now I just need to find the fucking exit of this maze and live like hell. Was it too much for them to put an exit sign somewhere? Each narrow corridor branching off the octagon looks the same as the others.
Sighing, I move to the center, trying to pick which eerie path to take.
When the first thorn buries itself deep in my thigh, I picture dragging Kaleb to his knees, crown and all. He won't have the privilege to mess with my emotions again. One moment he was lovey-dovey, the next he's cold as ice—acting like I'm just another name on his long list of people he fucking needs to control.
