Inner turmoil

After a night spent in a haze of anxiety and fear, the next morning dawned with a beaming sky and a soft breeze wafting in through her opened balcony window. Emma sat up in tangled sheets, her head in her hands, and fingers entwined in her hair. Her night had been a relentless cycle of dread and chaos, and though the morning sun was offering a sense of solace, she still couldn't quite shake the feeling of unease that had been plaguing her.

His words continued to repeat in her head. He had promised to set her free, so why did he say he wouldn't let her go? Why would he even want to keep her when he’d already got what he wanted? No matter how hard Emma tried, she just couldn't make sense of it.

Why was he so confusing?

Huffing with desperation, she stared at the side of the bed that appeared devoid of life. The sheets normally crumpled when he was in the bed were perfectly smooth as if untouched. The drenched towel that he wrapped around her shivering body lay carelessly on the couch,