LOGINBrianna's hand was on the door handle.She should leave. She should walk out and never look back. But her feet would not move. She stood there, her back to her mother, the silence pressing in around her. The morning light crept through the curtains, casting long shadows across the floor. She could hear Eloise breathing behind her. Shallow. Unsteady. The sound of a woman who had been holding her breath for years and was finally letting it out."Brianna."She closed her eyes. The voice was small, fragile, the voice of a woman who had spent too long being afraid."Please."She turned.Eloise was standing in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, her face wet with tears. She looked small. Broken. Like a woman who had been carrying something heavy for so long she had forgotten what it felt like to be light. Her shoulders were hunched. Her eyes were red and swollen. She looked like she had not slept in days, maybe weeks, maybe years."I did it to keep us alive."Brianna'
Brianna did not sleep.She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, running through everything in her head. Declan. Eric. Her mother. The debt. The lies. The years of pain.She had told Dawson she would sleep. She had closed her eyes and pretended. But sleep would not come.She rose before dawn. Dressed in the dark. Walked to the car.The keys were on the table. She took them.The drive to her mother's apartment took forty minutes.The streets were empty. The city was still sleeping. She parked in front of the building and sat for a moment, her hands on the wheel, her heart pounding.She did not know what she was going to say. She did not know if she was ready to hear the truth.But she had to ask.She walked up the stairs. Knocked on the door.Eloise opened it. Her face was pale, her eyes red. She had not slept either."Brianna.""I need to ask you something."Eloise stepped back. Let her in.They sat in the small living room, the morning light creeping through the curtains.Brianna l
The car moved through the dark, the headlights cutting a path through the night.Brianna sat in the passenger seat, her hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Dawson drove in silence. He had not asked her what she was thinking. He did not need to. He could see it on her face.She had just left her mother's apartment. She had held her, comforted her, promised to destroy the men who had hurt her. She had meant every word.But now, in the quiet of the car, the questions were creeping in.Was her mother really a victim? Or had she made choices that led her here? Had she been trapped, or had she simply been too weak to fight?And if she was a victim, did that make what she had done okay? Did it erase the years of pain? Did it erase the feeling of being sold?Brianna pressed her palm against her forehead. Her head was pounding.Dawson glanced at her."You're thinking too hard."She laughed. A short, bitter sound."I don't know how to stop."He reached for her hand. She let him
The fire crackled low in the hearth.Brianna sat on the couch, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that had gone cold. The cabin was quiet. Dawson had gone to make calls, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The box of records was still on the table. Her mother's face was still in her mind.She could not stop thinking about what Eloise had said. I thought I was protecting you. Those words echoed in her head, over and over, like a song she could not turn off.She had spent years being angry. Years blaming her mother for being weak. Years telling herself that Eloise had chosen money over her.But now she knew the truth. Eloise had not chosen money. She had chosen survival. Not just her own. Brianna's.She set the coffee down. Her hands were shaking.Dawson walked back into the room. He stopped when he saw her face."What is it?""I can't stop thinking about her."He sat beside her. His hand found hers."What about her?""She was a victim." Brianna's voice was low. "She was trapped.
The car was warm when Brianna climbed back in.Dawson was already behind the wheel, his hands resting on the steering wheel, his eyes on her face. He did not start the engine. He just sat there, waiting, giving her space to breathe.She closed the door. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.For a long moment, neither of them spoke.Then she opened her eyes. She stared at the dashboard, at the soft glow of the instruments, at the world outside that was still turning, still moving, still going on as if nothing had changed.Everything had changed."I spent my whole life being angry at her," Brianna said. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Every time she made a mistake, every time she chose the wrong man, every time she fell short, I was angry. I told myself she was weak. I told myself she was selfish. I told myself she never really loved me."Dawson reached for her hand. She let him take it."And now I know the
The call ended.Brianna stood in the middle of the cabin, her phone still pressed to her ear, the silence of the room pressing in around her. Her mother's voice still echoed in her mind. I love you too. Three words that should have felt like a balm. Instead, they felt like a wound that was finally beginning to heal.She set the phone down on the table. Her hands were shaking.Dawson came up behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders, warm and steady."Are you okay?"She shook her head. Then she nodded. Then she shook her head again."I don't know."He turned her to face him. His eyes searched hers."Talk to me."She looked at his face. At the man who had stood beside her through all of this. At the man who had held her when she fell apart and pushed her when she needed to fight."She was framed," Brianna said. Her voice was low, rough. "All this time, I thought she was weak. I thought she sold me because she was selfish. I thought she chose money over me." She pressed her hand to h
The dress hung on the back of her door like a ghost.Brianna had found it in the back of her closet that morning, buried under clothes she never wore. Simple. Navy blue. Long sleeves. A neckline that didn't invite attention. It belonged to Dawson's mother, left behind in a room that had been untouc
The photos slid off Brianna's lap and scattered across the floor mats of the Bugatti. Pictures of her walking to class. Pictures of her mother crying on a park bench. Pictures of Brianna sleeping in her old bedroom, taken through the window."You're sick," Brianna whispered. The air in the car sudd
The glass of whiskey in Eric’s hand tilted as he took a step closer, the amber liquid swirling like his dark intentions. The lock on the door clicked with a finality that made the air in the room turn thin."Don't look so terrified, Brianna," Eric said, his voice dropping to that patronizing, sicke
The sun hadn't even fully risen when the door to Brianna’s new bedroom creaked open. She scrambled to sit up, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest.It was her mother. Eloise was already dressed in a sharp power suit, looking like she hadn't spent the night in a house full of monsters. She didn







