Guilt flashed in her eyes. Her shoulders sagged in defeat after she had failed to find an exit. Her lips trembled as she searched for the words that would be sufficient to answer the life-altering question. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but then she closed them shut, tightly, so that she would not speak.
The need to rip the truth from her swam through my voice. I wrapped my hands around my chests so that I could stop myself from wrapping them around her neck and wringing the words out of her.
"Mia-"
"Marie," I snapped. "You were the one who made that identity," I hissed at her. She flinched, taking an unconscious step back.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, finally. "I didn't mean it to come out like this..." her voice was pleading, trying to make me understand.
"Why didn't you tell me yourself, save yourself the trouble?" I asked her.
