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I told you the pills would help, didn’t I? You trusted me, and now look at you—shaking, sweating, barely coherent.
‘It’s okay,’ I whisper, stroking your hair as you collapse into my arms. ‘You don’t need to think. I’ll do that for you. Just let me take care of everything.’
And you will. You’ll let me control every aspect of your life until you can’t imagine living without me. Exactly as it should be.