Lilly sometimes thought about fleeting moments—smiles from a teacher, a brief conversation with a classmate, a small sense of belonging—and remembered the sensation of warmth.
She allowed herself to feel it, and immediately, the pain of its absence struck harder than any anger or cruelty ever had.
This is the truth, she whispered.
Life will never let me have what I want. Happiness is not mine.
It never has been.
She no longer tried.
She no longer hoped.
She endured, quietly, mechanically, painfully, every day.