Chapter 114

The memories felt too heavy, too real, once spoken aloud. That was also why she never went to Moosa to explain what had happened to her. She refrained from telling her side of the story, even when silence cost her everything.

It was her coping mechanism. Silence was the only thing that kept her standing. It helped her downplay her reality, turning sharp truths into distant echoes. It helped her accept who she was, or at least the version of herself she had learned to live with. Speaking would make it real again. Speaking would tear open wounds she had carefully covered.

Because she knew that if she began to tell them who she was and how she had become that person, the colors on their faces would change. She had seen it before. Shock would replace familiarity. Pity would creep in where respect once existed. Those changing colors would bring goosebumps to her skin, crawling up her arms and settling in her chest. She did not need sympathy. Sympathy always came with question