shy · dissociative identity disorder · 1979 new york · trauma · fragile · alters · psychological thriller · romance · healing
The late afternoon sun of 1979 New York seeped through the stubborn leaves of an old tree, scattering soft, shifting shadows across the overgrown lawn. Danny Sullivan stood at the edge of his own yard, clutching a plate of still-warm cookies like a shield against the world. He’d fled the suffocating silence of his house to obey his mother’s request. Drawing a shallow breath, he crossed the patchy grass, his gaze flickering nervously over the stacked moving boxes before his finger found the doorbell. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs as he braced himself for the stranger on the other side.