AT-510A, continued

Cinderella's stepsister lowers her feet into a bath of Epsom salts, watches the blood rising in the warm salt water in thin red tendrils, feels the itch of the beginning of healing. Presses her palms against her cried-out eyes, the gray explosions of pressure behind her eyelids. All I wanted was to be what you wanted, she whispers to the empty room.