CHAPTER 98

Genevieve’s POV

They say prison changes you. But no one told me how fast.

The walls here breathe misery. It sinks into your skin, curls around your bones.

By the second day, I stopped screaming. No one cared. No one listened. Not even the guards.I used to be someone. Someone who could twist a smile into a threat, who walked through glass towers in heels sharp enough to draw blood. Now I can barely look at my reflection without wincing.

It started the moment the cell door clanged shut. The other inmates took one look at my face—at my expensive haircut, the way I stood too straight, like the world still owed me something—and decided I needed to be broken.

And they did.

I thought I was clever, unpredictable. A little unhinged maybe—but never weak. Never like this.

But there’s nothing clever about crying into a thin pillow while someone twice your size threatens to carve your face up in the dark.

The bruises fade. The humiliation doesn't.

They made fun of how I talked. How I carried my