THE SCARS OF THE PAST

META'S POV (Age 19)

My tongue swam in hot blood. Coppery. Thick. Every heartbeat hammered a blinding ache into my fractured jaw.

​"I swear to God, I never touched her money," I choked out. Just forcing the sentence out felt like swallowing razor blades. "Someone put it in my bag."

​It didn't...

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