His Darkest Temptation
There were two men in the room, their voices cold, clinical, running through a list of questions that Isabella had heard before, only now they carried a weight that would haunt her forever.
“State your name for the record.”
“Helena Rose Hart.”
“Why are you here, Helena?”
“Because you think you can fix me. But you can’t.”
The camera caught every detail: the flicker of resistance in her mother’s eyes, the exhaustion at the corners of her mouth. The moment the audio protocol began. A low, insidious hum filled the room, a frequency that Isabella had felt deep in her bones since arriving. The tape looped suggestions, whispered beneath the therapist’s voice.
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