Amaya’s POV According to the doctor, I had a panic attack. My body had gone into shock from the stress, making it even harder to breathe. He managed to stabilize me, but I was still weak, drained from everything that had just happened. It was never life-threatening, but Dante didn’t take it that way. Lying in bed, I could hear Dante repeatedly scolding Suri for overwhelming me with too much information while she pleaded desperately. I felt bad for her, but in my state, I could do nothing. From that day on, Suri was forbidden to see me, which made me quite sad—especially since Dante was always around me like a guard dog. He spoke less and became even more protective. A week later, I was discharged, and he took me back to the packhouse himself, barely letting me walk on my own. I protested, but it all fell on deaf ears, so I stopped and just did whatever he said. And when we arrived, I was practically imprisoned in my room all over again. As the days passed, I started
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