Something shifted.
The woman who made her brother torture me for ages was the same woman who made me feel safe. The one who loved me The one who believed in my talent. She was dead.
I couldn't differentiate between what was fake and what wasn't anymore. But I knew one thing.
As bad as it may sound.
I was glad she died.
I didn't want to see her in jail and feel sympathy for her. I would've gone to visit her and she would've messed my mind up even more.
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