Penelope's POV
Tears gathered into tiny streams, flowing incessantly down my face. I felt all my pent-up grievances exploding in my chest: the old wounds no one ever cared about, the falls no one helped me up from, the growth devoid of hugs or encouragement. My life was like a dirty rag, stained everywhere with filth, and I had no ability whatsoever to clean it.
"If I were Emma, would you love me just a little more?" After saying this, I burst into loud, wracking sobs. I truly didn't understand—what had I done wrong this time? Did I not want a wolf? Did I not want to be strong? But I'd already exhausted every ounce of strength just to survive.
"I don't hate you. I just..."
