Chapter 9. Rapture

**S:**

My thumb lingers against her cheek, trembling.

She’s still crying. And something inside me ruptures—silently, without warning.

I swallow hard, trying to force down the lump building in my throat. It’s like trying to bury a scream. It burns.

Tears... I’ve never hated them. On others, they were beautiful. Honest. Real.

But on her?

They wreck me.

She pulls away—slow, hesitant—and curls into herself in the corner like she’s trying to disappear. And just like that, I see it again.

That room.

That corner.

Me. Twelve years old. Shaking like a leaf. Crying so hard my ribs ached.

And the voices...

“Murderer!”

That’s what they called me. Over and over.

First in whispers. Then in screams. Then in silence—so thick it smothered me even in sleep.

Even when I hid beneath my bed, the words followed me like shadows.

“I didn’t do it!” I screamed every time th