Severine didn't know why she was still breathing.
Why her lungs still pulled in warm air, or why her fingers were still able to curl under her command.
She had died once, hadn't she?
Suddenly, that idea didn't sound half bad.
She didn't want to fight for the Vale Enterprise. She didn't want her mother's recognition. She didn't care who his father was.
Most of all, she didn't care about Damien's taunting words.
All the humiliation had saturated inside to the point of creating no ripples of hatred anymore.
She turned to the side on her bed, bringing her knees to her chest. Her eyes squeezed shut, face flushed with heat as beads of sweat slid onto the pillow.
A clear wet patch on the soft pillow cover deepened.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The sound pierced through the fog in her mind.
How many? She thought hazily. She seemed to have heard the ringing several times already.
