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.