Callie:
I woke up choking on my own breath.
Gasping.
Hands clawing at the blanket tangled around my legs. It felt like ropes. Shackles. My chest heaved, lungs too small for air that didn’t want to come.
The room was dark, too dark.
And I was there again.
His voice echoed in my head. That smell—cheap cologne, rot, blood. The way his fingers curled when he wanted obedience.
I was back in that room.
Back in his hands.
My body didn’t know the difference. My mind didn’t care that I was safe now, warm now, sleeping on a real couch with food in my stomach and clean clothes on my skin.
Because the fear was the same.
It always came back.
Always.
I tried to scream, but nothing came out. My throat locked. My mouth moved, but no sound followed.
I was drowning.
And then I felt her.
Warm
