I kept telling myself that lie all the way back to the house. By the time I pushed the door open and stepped into that quiet room, my feet were paining me so bad. My body was carrying heavy bruises and that bitter, heavy taste from what those men in Madam Veronica’s private rooms make me do. I was sore, tired, broken down completely from hours of suffering from their cruelty, their alcohol tempers, and the rough, wicked ways they acted when business was bad or their anger just boiled over. Yet, even with all that pain, I forced myself to hold onto a tiny, stupid thread of hope. Even though you didn't say thank you, even though you cut the phone so fast my ears were ringing, I still found a way to excuse you. I told myself, *maybe she was just in a rush. Maybe network was bad.* Or maybe once you sat down away from all the noise, you would use that four thousand euros to buy something nice for yourself or for the house, and finally smile. I kept picturing it in my head—you walking
Last Updated : 2026-08-24 Read more