My gift has always felt more like a curse. Standing up and speaking the truth when nobody wants to hear it is terrifying. But the truth doesn't erase the horrors I've seen.
It doesn't silence the whispers, or blind me to the fingers pointed my way. Doing the right thing never brought me anything but trouble.
So finding myself held captive by a sexy-as-sin duo who loathe me on sight doesn't come as a shock. What does surprise me is how quickly my anger for them burns out, leaving a ferocious need in its place.
A need to belong, to be seen, to be loved.
But when every wall I built begins to crumble, exposing my dark and sordid past
Will there be anyone left standing to pull me from the wreckage?
