REINA
The moment the call ended, the silence that followed was unbearable.
It wasn’t peace—it was punishment. The kind that hums in your chest and won’t let you breathe.
I stared at my phone like it had just betrayed me, my fingers shaking as I dropped it on the bed. I could still hear his voice echoing in my head—low, rough, commanding—words I shouldn’t have listened to, promises I should’ve ignored. But I hadn’t. I never did.
And now he was coming.
“God,” I whispered, pressing my palms against my face. My skin was still hot, my heart pounding so hard I thought I’d be sick.
I needed to move. To run.
I got up so fast the bedsheet tangled around my legs. The familiar room, my old room, still felt the same. Like I had left it two years ago. My things were still there, my old clothes.
