I took a deep, ragged breath, trying to harden my heart against the pain. "It's okay, I can handle this," I muttered to myself, the words feeling like a pathetic lie. "I didn't commit a sin, I'll be fine." But the words sounded insincere even to me; the emptiness kept echoing through my mind like a harsh reminder.
How could I be fine when everyone who should been my family had abandoned me without any care? The pain and anger swirled together in my chest, a toxic brew that threatened to consume me whole. I felt like I was drowning in my own emotions, unable to escape the crushing weight of my despair.
I thought back to earlier when I'd promised Lucifer we'd talk, but then I'd panicked and made an escape, using a bath as a lame excuse. Now, an hour had passed by, and I was still stuck in the bathtub, the water growing icy and my patience wearing thin. Seriously, how long could I hide in here?
