Melissa.
"Arrrrrrrrrghhhh!"
The scream tore out of my throat raw and ugly as my arm swept across the dresser. Bottles shattered against the wall. Makeup palettes clattered to the floor. A framed mirror tilted, caught itself, then trembled like it was afraid of me.
I didn't care.
I had just received the intel.
Tessa had been found.
Alive.
The word burned. It lodged in my chest like a shard of glass I couldn't cough up. Alive meant breathing. Alive meant standing. Alive meant she was back in the world, my world, where she had no right to exist.
That bitch.
I gripped the edge of the dresser, knuckles whitening as my reflection stared back at me, eyes wild, lips trembling with rage. I would have preferred a call that began with apologies. With excuses. With the simple, satisfying confirmation that she never made it back.
Why didn't they just kill her?
