Elena barely remembered how she got back to her small apartment that night. Every step felt heavy, her legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion and pain. Her clothes clung to her skin, torn and damp, while her body ached with bruises that told stories of cruelty.
Once inside, she locked the door behind her, leaning against it for a long moment. The silence of the tiny room pressed around her, broken only by the sound of her uneven breathing.
She stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the light. The reflection staring back at her in the mirror made her heart sink—her eyes were swollen, her cheek bruised, her lips cracked and pale. She looked like a ghost of herself.
Slowly, she cleaned the dried blood on her hands and arms, wincing each time water touched a cut. She used the small
