When my mother died I was left in the hands of the man she should never have married, my stepfather. He was a drunk who worked as a construction worker but loved to gamble and soon he put us in a lot of debt. Every time he lost, he came home angrier and promised he’d change, but he never did. Then one night, I heard him on the phone. “I’ll pay you back. I’ve got something more valuable than money.” Something. Not someone. Me. By the time I realized what he’d done, it was too late. Men in black suits came for me, their hands cold on my arms as they shoved me into the back of a car. I screamed, fought, begged, but no one listened. The last glimpse I had of my stepfather was him slouched in the doorway, smoking a cigarette. He didn’t even say goodbye. And then the car doors locked. My fate sealed. The air inside the auction hall felt heavy, sweet with perfume and expensive cigars. The chandeliers above glittered brightly, throwing light across the stage where I stood li
Last Updated : 2025-09-01
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