Watching Julian walk away, I felt my carefully constructed world collapse around me. Years of manipulation and scheming reduced to nothing in mere minutes. I couldn't let it end like this—I wouldn't.
"Julian!" I screamed, racing after him. "You can't do this to me!"
He didn't even turn around. The cold indifference was worse than any rage. I grabbed my hair and pulled hard, feeling strands rip from my scalp.
"I'll kill myself!" I shrieked. "Is that what you want?"
That made him stop. I saw his shoulders tense before he slowly turned back to face me. His amber eyes were distant, clinical—assessing whether I was truly a threat to myself or just putting on another performance.
I needed to make this convincing. With trembling hands, I started slapping my own face, hard enough to leave red marks.
"I deserve to die," I sobbed, hitting myself again. "I'm a monster! I'm evil!"
Julian moved quickly then, catching my wrists before I could strike myself again.
