The Scars He Left: A Second Chance At Happiness

mic thing struggling to

ers wer

ages that refused to obey the

of the gate, the emerald silk spread ac

sewing fo

the needle had

used to draw straight lines and comple

cheek to focus, using the sharp

ast s

were buried somewhere in the snow, and I coul

too

creamed i

es, a heavy, aching weight that made

e buzzer on

e click

he dress draped carefully over m

tanding on the balcony

e drinki

their mugs looked li

ed bene

My voice was a broken

looked

canning the seams for imperfectio

up," Jay

ounded like she was inspecting a

into th

l blow, making my skin prickle and burn as th

ed the

of myself in the hallway mirror-one eye swollen

njured; I looked lik

onto th

dress out

ing against my ice-cold knuckles. She re

e silk up t

," she said, snif

she p

a tiny, dark sp

is t

, my visio

drop of blood," I whi

he dress as if i

ruined it again. I can't wear

d, her eyes wide w

Floyd. She wants to ru

he emerald silk l

looked

athy in his gaze.

o the guest quarters. You're confined

y eyes caught something

a gre

re. Ha

nths knitting that f

oft, because he always complained that the store

w me star

icked

ughed. "It's so tacky. I

t Floyd. "Ca

ainst my ribs, a pai

voice trembling. "

dn't loo

the horizon, at t

sh," he said fl

ah s

he scarf ove

hed it

until it landed in the churned-up mud o

right in a

inside m

loud snap. I

tether holding me to this man

dn't

oo cold

e guest rooms, leaving the dress, the sca