SARAH
I looked at Aria again and something inside me finally split.
Her face was marked with tears that had dried and started again. Skin blotchy. Eyes dulled by exhaustion and fear she was no longer bothering to hide.
I had done that.
Every shaking breath. Every tremor in her hands. The way she held herself like the room might collapse if she relaxed.
"I wish you'd never approached me that day."
The sentence escaped before I could weigh it. It settled between us, low and heavy.
Her eyes lifted, startled.
I saw it again, clear as if it were happening now. The hallway. The stupid orientation flyers. Her smile, awkward and hopeful, when she asked for help.
"I wish I'd ignored you," I said. "Pretended you weren't there."
Her body recoiled, subtle but unmistakable.
"Maybe then…" I stopped myself. "Maybe things would have turned out differently."
It hurt her. I saw it land.
It hurt me too, because part of it was true.
