Taken by my stepfathers
His movements were scary, his face a mask of absolute, murderous calm.
And there was Miller.
The man who had haunted my nightmares for a decade. The man who had used his position to ensure I stayed quiet, who had laughed when I cried, who had told me that my scars were my only inheritance. Seeing him tied to that chair, bleeding and pathetic, didn't make me feel safe yet. It made me feel like the world was upside down.
"Please," Miller groaned, his voice thick with blood. "I didn't do anything. The girl... she’s a liar. She’s always been trouble. Ask any of the others—"
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