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Summary
Andrea stared at the coin in her hand, trying to fight back the overwhelming nausea that kept calling for her to throw up a third time that night. Russell was… kind. Sweet. He didn’t deserve to be put at risk just for dating someone like her.
A murderer.
Andrea brushed back her hair, trying to push the thoughts from her mind. She could still hear it, the sharp pop of the governor’s neck as she twisted it. She could feel his last breath as it exited his body. Tom Harper was dead, and his blood was on her hands.
After years of believing that she had left Leviathan behind… they had called upon her. And now she knew that she would never escape. Perhaps they would not summon her often, but she knew she would never know peace again.
Breaking up with Russell was the easy part. Living with herself… was another thing entirely.
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A rojarias fic, with background supercorp.