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WILLOW’S POV

The world was a blur of darkness and agony. I had no idea how much time had passed since I lost consciousness, but it seemed like an eternity. As I gradually regained control of myself, my memory assaulted me with the nightmarish events of the night.

The sight of Cameron’s unconscious body, the sound of my mother’s agonizing screams, the smell of death and blood that followed right after. They all came rushing back to me, making me wish I could slip back into ignorance.

I felt hot tears sting my eyes and spill over, burning my skin as they ran down my face. I tried to stifle the sobs that rose in my chest, but they were too strong to contain.

I loved my mother, despite her faults and wrongdoings. Her violent death filled me with hatred. What intensified my hatred even more was my father's inaction. He stood by, watching it unfold, not lifting a finger to stop Alana from killing her.

But deep down in my heart, I also knew that my mother had brought this horror upon herself