#Chapter136
The Truth
I exhale and throw my head back on my chair and try to relax my sprawled body, inhale slowly as nausea rises around me and pushes out the deafening guilt that's building. I only end up stiff as a board and unable to release the tightness of my shoulder muscles as tears fog out my vision. Hormones are making this worse and I'm already exhausted to the point that I can't think straight.
/"There's maybe a chance I ….. if I can see Jasper and my father. Maybe I can talk to them, stop this. Maybe I can somehow…./" I don't even know. I'm deflated, grasping, consumed by the responsibility of all this and I feel completely useless. This is partly about me, so shouldn't I be able to fix it?
