She stepped inside, her boots crunching on the frost-covered floor, the sound echoing in the silence. Her breath formed white clouds in the air, the same as mine, but while mine were ragged and desperate, hers were calm, and measured. She enjoyed this, I knew. She enjoyed seeing me like this—broken, helpless.“Look at you,” she taunts, “Reduced to nothing, just like you deserve.”I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see the glee in her eyes, the satisfaction of seeing me like this. But I knew she wouldn’t let me hide for long.“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice sharp and cold.I hesitated, but then slowly, I lifted my head. Our eyes met, and I was struck by how much she looked like me—or rather, how much I should have looked like her. She was everything I was not—strong, confident, cruel. She had the life that should have been mine. I was her. Her lips curled into a smile as she reached into the bag
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