After hanging up the call with her father, Genevieve glanced at Jamal through the rearview mirror. He remained focused on the road, hands steady on the wheel.
She tossed her phone onto the seat beside her and shut her eyes again as she thought about Jamal this time.
She thought about what he had said about not being defined by her past. That was such a kind thing to say although she didn't believe it applied to her.
How could anyone move on from a life like hers? She asked herself as she massaged her temple which was beginning to throb.
She was exhausted. She was fed up of the whole act yet there was little that she could do about it but keep keeping up.
She hated her life so much. She hated the constant fear that nagged her. The fear of being discovered. The fear of being found out to be a fake.
She hated the nightmares that plagued her. Nightmares of everyone finding out that she wasn't who she claimed to be or wasn't as smart as she was painted to be.
