Blair Bathory

It's for your own good. Your room was getting cluttered. You don't need all that junk anymore. Let's focus on the future, not the past. Each time she moved something, she erased a little more of his past, making him feel ungrateful for holding on to it. Jose started to dread coming home. The house felt suffocating, as if he were slowly being erased from it.

It's for your own good. Your room was getting cluttered. You don't need all that junk anymore. Let's focus on the future, not the past. Each time she moved something, she erased a little more of his past, making him feel ungrateful for holding on to it. Jose started to dread coming home. The house felt suffocating, as if he were slowly being erased from it.

The breaking point came one night when Jose framed a photo of him and Pepita at one of their favorite concerts. He had saved for weeks to get it done, a way to hold on to her in the world that now felt emptier without her. He placed it proudly on his nightstand, a small but important act of remembrance. The next morning, Christina found the photo.

The breaking point came one night when Jose framed a photo of him and Pepita at one of their favorite concerts. He had saved for weeks to get it done, a way to hold on to her in the world that now felt emptier without her. He placed it proudly on his nightstand, a small but important act of remembrance. The next morning, Christina found the photo.

The breaking point came one night when Jose framed a photo of him and Pepita at one of their favorite concerts. He had saved for weeks to get it done, a way to hold on to her in the world that now felt emptier without her. He placed it proudly on his nightstand, a small but important act of remembrance. The next morning, Christina found the photo.

Her smile was tight as she picked it up, her fingers caressing the glass. Such a lovely photo, she said, but her eyes narrowed. But don't you think it's a bit childish? Jose froze, his chest tightening with dread. He could already hear the words that would follow. You're not a little boy anymore, Mio. You need to grow up.

Her smile was tight as she picked it up, her fingers caressing the glass. Such a lovely photo, she said, but her eyes narrowed. But don't you think it's a bit childish? Jose froze, his chest tightening with dread. He could already hear the words that would follow. You're not a little boy anymore, Mio. You need to grow up.

Her smile was tight as she picked it up, her fingers caressing the glass. Such a lovely photo, she said, but her eyes narrowed. But don't you think it's a bit childish? Jose froze, his chest tightening with dread. He could already hear the words that would follow. You're not a little boy anymore, Mio. You need to grow up.

She glanced at the photo again, a flicker of something darker crossing her face. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you holding on to this. Let go, Mio. It's time. I don't care, he said, his voice shaky. It's mine. It's all I have left of her. Cristina's smile twisted, her eyes colder. You'll never be good enough for me, mijo, no matter how hard you try.

She glanced at the photo again, a flicker of something darker crossing her face. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you holding on to this. Let go, Mio. It's time. I don't care, he said, his voice shaky. It's mine. It's all I have left of her. Cristina's smile twisted, her eyes colder. You'll never be good enough for me, mijo, no matter how hard you try.

She glanced at the photo again, a flicker of something darker crossing her face. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you holding on to this. Let go, Mio. It's time. I don't care, he said, his voice shaky. It's mine. It's all I have left of her. Cristina's smile twisted, her eyes colder. You'll never be good enough for me, mijo, no matter how hard you try.

The words landed like blows, making his skin crawl. That night, Jose came home to find Cristina standing in the kitchen, her face calm but her eyes hollow. You've made me do something I didn't want to do, she said softly, but with a sharp edge in her voice. Jose's stomach dropped. What? Jose stepped back, his heart racing. This wasn't the woman he had been living with. This wasn't Christina.

The words landed like blows, making his skin crawl. That night, Jose came home to find Cristina standing in the kitchen, her face calm but her eyes hollow. You've made me do something I didn't want to do, she said softly, but with a sharp edge in her voice. Jose's stomach dropped. What? Jose stepped back, his heart racing. This wasn't the woman he had been living with. This wasn't Christina.

The words landed like blows, making his skin crawl. That night, Jose came home to find Cristina standing in the kitchen, her face calm but her eyes hollow. You've made me do something I didn't want to do, she said softly, but with a sharp edge in her voice. Jose's stomach dropped. What? Jose stepped back, his heart racing. This wasn't the woman he had been living with. This wasn't Christina.

This was something else. Something darker. Without warning, she lunged at him, the knife poised to strike. But then, something stopped her. It wasn't Jose. Jose. He wasn't close enough to touch her, but the air around them thickened, the room suddenly freezing. Christina froze too, her arm rigid in midair, the knife suspended. The lights flickered, the drawers rattled.

This was something else. Something darker. Without warning, she lunged at him, the knife poised to strike. But then, something stopped her. It wasn't Jose. Jose. He wasn't close enough to touch her, but the air around them thickened, the room suddenly freezing. Christina froze too, her arm rigid in midair, the knife suspended. The lights flickered, the drawers rattled.

This was something else. Something darker. Without warning, she lunged at him, the knife poised to strike. But then, something stopped her. It wasn't Jose. Jose. He wasn't close enough to touch her, but the air around them thickened, the room suddenly freezing. Christina froze too, her arm rigid in midair, the knife suspended. The lights flickered, the drawers rattled.

The sound of clattering kitchen utensils filled the air as knives, spoons, and forks flew toward Christina. One knife dug deep into her shoulder, another sliced her cheek open. She screamed, but it was a shrill sound, swallowed by the chaos. But then it happened. The music began, a song Jose and Petipita used to dance to, the familiar guitar riff filling the room like a ghost.

The sound of clattering kitchen utensils filled the air as knives, spoons, and forks flew toward Christina. One knife dug deep into her shoulder, another sliced her cheek open. She screamed, but it was a shrill sound, swallowed by the chaos. But then it happened. The music began, a song Jose and Petipita used to dance to, the familiar guitar riff filling the room like a ghost.

The sound of clattering kitchen utensils filled the air as knives, spoons, and forks flew toward Christina. One knife dug deep into her shoulder, another sliced her cheek open. She screamed, but it was a shrill sound, swallowed by the chaos. But then it happened. The music began, a song Jose and Petipita used to dance to, the familiar guitar riff filling the room like a ghost.