Leone
She freezes. The terror flickers in her eyes, the unasked question hanging between us. I’m not oblivious to her fear, not that I address it. Her reaction is swift—fear, horror, a silent scream in her eyes. No brutality, no forced submission. Instead, I remove the lightbulb, plunging the room into darkness, save for the faint glow of the night-vision camera. It’s a precaution, a way to keep her in check.
“Please, leave the light on,” she begs.
I ignore her plea. I glance at the camera in the corner. The red light blinks once, switching to night vision. Footsteps echo in the hall. I turn to find Maria standing there.
“Milo went and got Chinese food,” she says, holding out a plate.
“Please, eat, Fallon,” Maria murmurs, looking past me at Fallon on the bed. She glances at me, hoping
