The Last Truth

Eloise – First Person POV

The steam from my shower still clung to my skin, wrapping me in its lingering warmth as I padded barefoot across the hardwood floor of my apartment. Droplets slipped down my collarbone and disappeared into the neckline of my silk robe. My hair, damp and heavy, clung to my shoulders. For weeks, my mornings had begun like this, quiet, steady, predictable. Peaceful, people would call it. They didn’t know how silence could sometimes be the loudest noise in the room.

Peace had returned, yes. The atelier glimmered again, its glass walls spotless, its display cases brimming with new designs that bore only...