#Chapter 53: A Late Night

Raven My fingers nervously twisted the edge of my blanket as I stared up at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come to me that night, no matter how much I willed it to come. My mind kept whirling, grappling relentlessly with the fact that I was alive. Alive. While she wasn’t. Hannah’s face flashed before me every time I closed my eyes—the wide, shocked look as she staggered back, her hands clutching at the knife in her chest. The gurgled rasp of her final words. The way her body crumpled to the floor, lifeless within a matter of mere seconds. I should have felt worse about it. Far worse. Shouldn’t I? I rolled onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut, but it only made matters worse. The memories replayed there, too, in the darkness. The flash of the knife moving from my hand without my mind catching up. The blood. The dull sound of her body hitting the ground. But no matter how vivid the images were, I found that I wasn’t wracked with grief or guilt. Only a low