Chapter 34

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Adelina POV: 

It felt like a part of my soul had been ripped out of me. A part of myself retracted back into the suppressed state I use to survive.

The past two days had made me slip back into old habits. But they felt different.

I was waking up early, cleaning, quieting my steps and making mediocre food that was a far cry from Angelo's cooking for the boys. I was stuck in an old routine, one with new guidelines. 

I couldn't say I remembered anything from the night that shoved me in this state after the word authority leaked from Domenico's lips. I remember waking up the next day and robotically starting my routine. 

I have tunnel vision as I prepare to leave the house. My uniform is on and worn pristinely, my books are in order though I have absolutely no clue if I have any intention of using them yet and I sit at my vanity making myself prim, proper and perfectly acceptable to walk into school. 

Formerly, when less eyes if any were on me, sweatpants and wearing makeup only when I woke up early enough were my daily routine. Now, I make myself a more put together version of me as I dab small amounts of concealer on my face. 

I reached for the foundation and squeeze a large amount onto my fingers before moving to apply it onto my body, searching for the bruising and redness along my skin and stopped dead in my tracks, my blood running cold. There was no bruising, no redness. None at all. 

When was the last time a hand was laid upon me? The last time I had felt the grime of someone's hands marking my skin? Why does it still feel like yesterday? 

I look back into the mirror, startling myself with my own sad eyes. Sad, sad eyes who had everything to hide. 

Guilt.

Shame.

Desperation.

And as much fury as my glued together mind could muster. Fury because of how this second nature has followed me after the event. I had always thought Michaels death would fix it, remedy me. Maybe I've become furious because it hasn't. 

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Showing up as the unknown sister of two wildly known brothers in the middle of the school year is no where near ideal. It is made aparent to me that it is no coincidence that my junior brothers and myself have the same lunch nor is it a coincidence that my missing gap of about a month of education had been forgotten about. 

Getting adjusted is a debatably easy task. How could it not be when everything had been laid out for me so easily? Teachers are understanding of my getting thrown into the school though not especially leniant and the students haven't approached. They just watch and wait for me to make the first move. I never will, I don't have much energy to maintain a new friendship.  

I am not being stared at everywhere I go, my every foot step is not tracked, but at some point or another, throughout the day, I had been the subject of every single one of my peer's, or somewhere close to it, attention. 

I could understand if their intent had been people watching, I turn no blind eye to the oddity of the situation that I feel the need to explain to no one, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels as though they try to find words of my past sprawled in my skin, as if they search me for my story.

Is it insane to start to believe that they figured me out? That they see in my eyes the images I desperately try to rid myself of? 

Every set of eyes feels heated, and while my own sanity tells me it is merely my growing paranoia the other part of me wonders if they really could see something others couldn't. 

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