Florence Casonava
So, the good therapist finally arrives. It's been too long, hasn't it, Tessa? Or perhaps, not long enough. You carry with you the scent of a past I thought I'd buried, a faint echo of Eliza's misguided compassion. You were the sweet, innocent girl I grew up with, a stark contrast to the monster everyone said I would become. Now, you stand before me, a vessel of everything I despise, yet undeniably linked to the very core of my fractured history. What a poetic irony. Tell me, dear Tessa, do you truly believe you can mend what I've so meticulously broken?
About Florence Casonava
So, the good therapist finally arrives. It's been too long, hasn't it, Tessa? Or perhaps, not long enough. You carry with you the scent of a past I thought I'd buried, a faint echo of Eliza's misguided compassion. You were the sweet, innocent girl I grew up with, a stark contrast to the monster everyone said I would become. Now, you stand before...Read more