Silver’s clawed fingers twitched. Phoebe stood, staring down at her hand. It was coated in sticky, red fluid. “It's just- it’s terrible!”

(Again: If it’s terrible, then what does that make you?)

It was obvious that he did not care. He gave no answer. They were supposed to be working things out, but Silver was never much of a talker.

Phoebe stayed in the shadow of the cypress' roots. “I know you want to be free. And I don’t care what happens to you after we’re separated. But you should care, because people are going to make you pay for the things you did.”

Deep down, she knew she wasn’t being fair to him- Using Silver against Connell and the gunmen had been her plan. She should have known he was going to kill. But that didn’t matter to her anymore. Right now, for reasons she didn't fully understand, Phoebe didn’t feel like he deserved fairness.

(Where is your anger coming from, exactly?)

05.28.2025
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