{This Chapter Contents Some Trauma Be Warned)
June's POV
I locked the door.
I know it'll piss him off when he comes to my room. But I can't help myself. It's not like it will stop him—not like it ever has. He has a key. He's always had a key.
Still, locking it makes me feel like I have some control, even if it's just an illusion.
I glance at the clock.
Fifteen minutes.
That's all I have before he comes.
I clench my fists, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. He always gives me exactly twenty minutes after I step inside the house—twenty minutes to do what, I don't know. Maybe he thinks I sit here, waiting for him, knowing what's coming.
And he's right.
I do.
Not because I want to. But because preparing myself is the only thing that keeps me from completely shattering.
My stomach twists violently, and I grip the edges of my bed. The silence in the room feels suffocating, pressing against me like a heavy weight.
Fourteen minutes.
