A bloom of warmth forms in Malcolm’s chest, even as a new tear slips down his face.
He sticks close to Raylan, where he can be steered easily by the hand on his shoulder.
“When my father was arrested, kids in my class started calling me ‘psycho’ but I never felt like that was me. What if this place is making me into it? What if we all end up becoming our worst selves?”
no subject
A bloom of warmth forms in Malcolm’s chest, even as a new tear slips down his face.
He sticks close to Raylan, where he can be steered easily by the hand on his shoulder.
“When my father was arrested, kids in my class started calling me ‘psycho’ but I never felt like that was me. What if this place is making me into it? What if we all end up becoming our worst selves?”