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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY

Author: Iris Brown
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-30 19:38:24

Lyla’s POV

The room was dark, heavy with silence, but my mind refused to stay there. It dragged me back — back to the tiled walls, the sting of cold water, the echo of laughter that wasn’t joy but cruelty.

I hadn’t even been able to scream properly that day. My voice had caught, choking against the steam as rough hands shoved me down. The showerhead had hissed above, spraying water that mingled with the blood running down my thighs. I remembered the taste of the tile when my face hit it. The press of weight, one after another, while I curled inward and prayed I’d stop breathing.

It wasn’t the pain that haunted me the most. It was the sound. Their boots scraping against wet tile. Their voices, jeering, as though I weren’t even human.

I pressed my face into Emilio’s shirt now, burying myself in the faint, smoky scent of him, as though it could scrub that memory from me. But it clung, sharp and sour, playing over and over every time I blinked.

A knock at the door pulled me back. Too soft
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