Cage to Cage
They smile when I enter, polite and practiced, their eyes flicking toward the gown before returning to me.
Lila gestures toward the chair. “Sit, Mrs. Maddock.”
The name catches in my throat. It’s not mine yet, and still it feels like a chain.
I lower myself into the chair, back straight, chin lifted — the posture drilled into me for appearances. The mirror in front of me reflects someone I barely recognize. My face looks calm, expressionless, but there’s a storm just beneath the surface.
They start working around me — brushes sweeping, hands twisting my hair into delicate, perfect coils. The scent of perfume and roses mixes with something metallic, maybe from the jewelry. It’s suffocating. E
Sikat na Kabanata