Sophia's Point Of View
The moment Morana stepped out of the house, a suffocating silence settled over us.
For a few seconds, none of us moved, the only sound in the room being the uneven, ragged breaths we shared.
Then, with a shuddering exhale, I collapsed onto the floor, my bloodied hands resting on my lap as I stared at them... at the red streaks, at the tiny shards of ceramic still embedded in my skin.
A deep, unrestrained rage coiled in my chest.
"That bitch," I hissed, my voice dripping with venom.
My hands curled into fists, the sharp edges of broken porcelain biting deeper into my flesh, but I barely felt the pain.
That lunatic.
That pathetic, deranged whore.
My mother let out a soft whimper, her fingers still clutching her bleeding throat. She staggered, then leaned against the nearby table for support, her lips trembling in pain and fury.
"Edward," she choked out, her voice hoarse, "your daughter has gone out of her mind."
Edward's face darkened.
