The Tyrant's Cage: Escaping My Cruel Husband

heavy diamond neck

nity. The jewels hit the polishe

at. The woman staring back at her is a perfect, lifeless political wife. Her skin is powdered too pale. Her li

bedroom. She doesn't make a sound. She hands Anissa

quickly pulls the comfortable cotton over her head. The moment the soft fabric touches her s

rgent. The security patrol shift change is happ

m door open. She peers into the silent, diml

out. Her worn sneakers make zero

g cameras. She times their movements perfectly to the sweeping red sensor

ducks behind a massive marble pillar ju

st for the congressional

ng to be stressed,

f the pillar. The chill seeps through her hoodie. She waits for their

toward the narrow servant's stairwell tha

grows cooler with every level they desc

It is a structural flaw she discovered during her firs

She quickly unscrews the rusted bolts. Anissa keeps w

squeezes through the narrow shaft. The rough iron scra

r her. She pulls the grate back into pl

tate's outer gardens. The distant sounds of D. C.

long shadows of the ancient oak trees to avoid the swee

t iron fence with terrifying agility. S

old metal. She drops down. A massive rush of adrenaline

Georgetown enclave. They head toward a

polluted but wonderfully free city air. A genuine, unrestra

hes over them. Anissa notices a large crowd gathering ne

ookers. She sees a woman hold

s. "My father, Roy, is dying. W

cheap cot beside her, c

expensive designer sneakers Roy is wearing under the frayed edge

upbringing taught her to protect the commun

ard. She points d

says loudly. Her voice cuts through the crowd. "Those shoes look like they get better care than he does. And those

microphone. She lunges forward, attempting to shov

ts. She grabs Misty's wris

e bucket. Coins and crumpled bills

ped. Angry shouts erupt. People step

sly cured. He and Misty flee down the st

c noise, Anissa feels a sudden, sharp prickle on t

urns

e entrance of a dark alleyway. He is watching h

ath catches