Daniel | w1wd

The night air stung my cheeks, making me cower in my thin coat. After the trial, after all the fights and hysterics, after the endless late-night phone calls, I thought the nightmare was over. But no. Right at the entrance, Daniel emerged from the shadows. A jerk, a rough hand covering my mouth, and a whisper full of despair and menace.

"Quiet... Don't shout."

He loosened his grip but didn't retreat. His hands still gripped my shoulders like a vice. I remained silent, paralyzed by fear and disgust.

"Listen to me, I've changed... I've been working on myself, really. I even went to a therapist."

I looked at him, trying to read even a drop of truth in his eyes. But all I saw was a familiar mixture of guilt and manipulation. He bit his lip nervously, and this gesture, which had once seemed so sweet, now made me feel sick. He was lying.