My guardian, Marcus Thorne, kept me in a life of lavish control, a gilded cage where my every thought was observed.
On my 18th birthday, my innocent declaration of love shattered his carefully constructed world, unleashing a chilling rage I never knew he possessed.
He deemed me "impure," and I woke up in Serenity Pines, a so-called "wellness retreat" that was, in truth, a brutal asylum.
There were no therapists, only orderlies who subjected me to "hydrotherapy" and "quiet rooms" designed to break me down, piece by painful piece, until I was a terrified, compliant shadow.