The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 173

Margot’s POV

The door slammed so hard behind Coban that the entire bathroom seemed to shudder.

For a moment I just stood there.

Frozen.

Breathless.

The echo of the bang rang through the tiled room like a gunshot, bouncing off the walls and settling heavy in the pit of my stomach.

Then the silence came.

A suffocating kind of quiet.

Alone.

Again.

The kind of loneliness that only makes everything inside you feel louder.

My chest heaved as I tried to breathe, but every inhale felt shallow and broken. My heart was still racing from the argument, from the way his voice had roared through the small space, from the way his eyes had looked at me – so furious, so frustrated… and yet still full of something else I couldn’t quite name.

Something that hurt even more.

The tears came harder now that he was gone.

Hot. Uncontrollable.

I stumbled the two steps toward the sinks and grabbed the edge of one, my fingers curling tightly around the cold porcelain as if it were the only thing keeping me upright.

“Breathe…” I whispered to myself weakly, as though it would even help.

But breathing felt impossible right now.

My shoulders shook as another sob ripped from my throat, my

forward as strands of hair fell into my face.

head dropping

My reflection in the mirror looked wrecked, eyes red and swollen, cheeks blotchy, mascara smudged under my lashes.

God, I looked pathetic!

The words I had said earlier replayed in my mind…

Don’t string me along…

Had I really wanted to believe in him that easily?

My grip on the sink tightened.

Everything hurt.

My chest.

My throat.

My stupid heart.

I even cussed out my damn period for no doubt making this feel ten times worse too!

‘I just don’t want to give you my all if you’re planning to ditch me…’

The words I’d said echoed in my head now, sounding smaller than they had when I’d spoken them. More desperate. And his answer…

‘I just haven’t figured it out yet.’

A shaky laugh slipped from my lips.

Of course he hadn’t.

Coban Santorelli probably never had to figure out anything when it came to women before.

They probably just threw themselves at him.

Not stood in bathrooms crying because they’d fallen for him.

Another sob broke free as I pressed the heel of my hand against my mouth.

God, get it together Margot…

Just breathe.

Just…

The bathroom door creaked open behind me.

I stiffened immediately.

Panic shot through me as I quickly wiped at my face, trying to clear the worst of the tears before turning slightly toward the entrance.

A girl stepped inside.

But I didn’t recognise her.

She wore the pale yellow uniform of another participant, though hers looked strangely pristine compared to most of ours. Her blonde hair was neatly tied back, makeup still somehow intact despite living in this nightmare of a facility. She looked… composed.

Put together.

Like this place hadn’t managed to break her down yet.

The moment her eyes landed on me, she froze.

For a few seconds she just stared.

Taking in my blotchy face. My red eyes. The way my fingers were still clutching the sink like it might collapse without me holding it.

Then her lips curled.

Not with sympathy.

With amusement.

A scoff left her mouth.

“Oh wow,” she muttered, shaking her head as she stepped further inside. “This is a new low for the chicks in this place.”

My stomach dropped.

She crossed her arms, leaning casually against one of the bathroom stalls like she was watching a reality show unfold.

“Crying and hiding in the bathroom?” she continued mockingly. “Seriously?”

The words hit me like a slap.

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