⇰ Seventeen-year-old Alora has spent her life in the shadows of pain and betrayal. When she's torn from the only world she's ever known and thrust into the arms of a family she never knew existed, healing feels impossible. But as she fights to rebui...
♫"IM HEARING VOICES ALL THE TIME AND THEIR HAUNTING MY MIND."♫ ⇢ Black out days, Phantogram
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It's been two weeks and I haven't been to school yet. Leone mentioned something about my attendance a few days ago, but I didn't really listen. It's not like I'm planning to go back anytime soon.
My days have become monotonous, a cycle of wake up, pain, text Elias, paint, pain, dinner, pain, and then back to sleep. Repeat. It's all the same, and frankly, it's draining.
Today is no different. I drag myself out of my room and down the stairs toward the dining room. But when I step inside, I stop in my tracks.
Someone's sitting in my seat.
A blonde girl I don't recognize is perched there, latched onto Xander's arm, chatting animatedly with him as if she's lived here her whole life.
She's in my seat.
Vittorio is the first to notice me standing there, frozen. His eyes flick to the girl, and his expression tightens just slightly.
"Amara, that's Alora's seat," he says gently, though there's a firmness in his tone.
The girl-Amara, apparently-turns her head so quickly it's like she's in a soap opera. She looks me up and down, her gaze lingering just long enough to make me feel like I'm under a microscope. Then, she scrunches her nose and gives me a disgusted look.
"She can sit somewhere else," she says, dismissively, before turning back to Xander as if I don't exist.
My jaw clenches so tightly it hurts. I grip the back of a chair to keep my hands occupied, to stop myself from wrapping them around her neck.
Calm down, Alora.
I force my feet to move and make my way to the opposite side of the table. Matteo is absorbed in his phone, barely acknowledging my presence as I sit beside him.
"Where's Leone?" I ask, my voice sharper than I intend.
"He said he won't be home until later," Vittorio replies. "Neither will Giovanni. Business stuff."
"And who's this?" I ask, nodding toward the blonde infestation in my seat.
Vittorio smiles slightly. "That's Amara. Xander's girlfriend. She's a sweet girl." I scoff.
Sweet? Sure.
As if on cue, she leans over and kisses Xander on the lips, her hand resting on his chest. My stomach turns, and before I can stop myself, a look of disgust flashes across my face. I quickly school my features, wiping the expression clean, but the damage is done.
I glance down at the table. It's Wednesday, which means Alfredo pasta and chicken. I poke at the food with my fork, the creamy sauce congealing under the lights. I can't eat this. If I do, I'll just throw it up later like every other meal.
