𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍. Lara would sooner gather every grain of sand on the ocean’s floor than figure out where things had gone so terribly, terribly awry. So terribly, terribly… just… WRONG.
“ I suppose it all started when I was six, ” she said, and it was the funniest joke she’d ever made; funny because of how damn true it was. “ No, I just… I’m not the kind of person who… talks. I’m trying to be, but it’s… not as easy as I thought it would be. Just talk! It should be so SIMPLE. But I’ve always preferred doing something about my problems. I prefer action, I prefer change. Talking… I’m not sure. ”
What would it fix? Nothing. Sam was still in prison, for God’s sake! Jonah was gone. The whole world was upside-bloody-down, the entire burden of it falling on Lara Croft’s strong –– but not that strong –– shoulders.
“ I’m so… tired. ” She admitted, careful not to make eye contact. “ I’m just so tired. ”