The next morning I opened my eyes. Three days left before I was gone.

I got up early on purpose. Serena was sitting still, staring at an old photo of me, the one from before, when I used to ride horses. I was confident in that photo, full of life. Every girl on campus had wanted to be with that version of me.

"Missing the old days? Too bad about my legs."

She startled and quickly tucked the photo away. Then she noticed what I had deliberately exposed. My bare skin, covered in scars. And carved into my lower body were the word "trash". The surrounding skin was a ruin of overlapping wounds.

Her face drained of color. She fought to hold herself together. She couldn't.

"I, I'll just go check on the oats."

She rushed out. A moment later, muffled retching came from down the hall.

This was the first time she had ever seen the full extent of what had been done to me. Ever since she got me out of prison, I had been barely holding together mentally. I had never shown these marks to anyone, not even her.

She had always assumed that after destroying me and playing the savior who pulled me out, I would gradually let go of the hatred, just like she wanted.

'But these marks, Serena. You couldn't even stomach the sight of them, could you?

'And every single one of them is because of you.

'I'm showing it to you on purpose, Serena. I want you to see every last bit of it.'

I wheeled myself out to the living room. From the kitchen came Serena's voice, sharp and frantic.

"Didn't you say you'd have someone look after Caleb properly in prison? Then what are all those marks on him? That's your idea of looking after him? I'll kill you!"

The man on the other end of the line was completely unbothered. His voice held a lazy, arrogant edge, yet it was unmistakably heavy with seduction.

"No you won't. Because you can't give me up. If I'm gone, where are you going to find another man who looks that much like him? And don't forget, you just threw up looking at those marks on him. Maybe you should come find me and remind yourself what a real man feels like. Tonight, same place. I've got something new planned. You'll love it."

"I told you to stop doing that. Two more days and I belong to Caleb completely. He'll be my husband!"

"Then let's make the most of the next two days. Same place. I'll be waiting."

Serena hung up. She muttered curses under her breath, but her hands never stopped untying her apron and fixing her hair. The oats had been boiling over for who knows how long and she hadn't even noticed. She was in that much of a hurry.

"Hiss."

"Babe! Did you burn yourself? What are those caregivers even for if they can't keep an eye on one person? I told you the kitchen is off limits, it's dangerous. Does it hurt?"

Her eyes were red. She grabbed my burned finger and blew on it to cool it down. Then her gaze landed on the scars on my exposed skin and went still for just a moment. She looked away without a word.

"Did you have somewhere to be? Go ahead, I can have Ben take care of this."

As she said it, the rug that was covering my legs slipped to the floor, revealing the raw, angry burns.

"Burns this bad are not a small thing. I told you, as long as I'm by your side, nothing is going to hurt you. Your legs are already in bad shape. This makes it worse. We need to go to the hospital."

Then her phone lit up. I caught one glance at what was on the screen. A photo. The kind that made her breath catch. She swallowed quietly.

"You go ahead if you have somewhere to be. My legs are useless anyway. What's a few more scars?"

"No. I won't let you talk about yourself like that."

She turned the screen face down and kept her expression steady.

"Nothing matters more than your legs. I'm waiting for the day you're well enough to travel the world with me."

But the phone kept going. Buzzing, stopping, and buzzing again.

There was visible hesitation in her eyes.