AR

nd apprehension. I wasn't sure what to expect, but this is beyond anything I could have imagined.

uriously furnished and well-crafted. As if someone has spent all of their time trying to impress a princess of some sort. An antique class of golden flowe

they want from me? These questions flood my mind, drowning out the beauty of the room. I c

he really trying to help me, or is he just using me for some ulterior motive? And even if he is trying

oing on and why I'm here. But as I look around the room, all I can think is, how di

their allure, a sense of unease grips me. Everything in this room seems too perfect, too untouched, as if it was carefully crafted to lull me into. Could it b

ours ago. What have I done to deserve such obscene wealth? Nothing, as far as I know. And even if I did have something to offer, it couldn't possibly be enough for these peop

no sens

the only reason behind his amusement. Unfortunately, I can never seem to hide what I'm feeling. I've never been able to, and m

wards me, curious.

f course, I do.

, his face full of genuin

head and li

t good at hiding my emotions, and it's b

an make other arrangements," he offers, t

..it'

as I ask. I can't believe I'm in this situ

w in confusion, his almond-shap

n a box, and now you're offering me this luxurious room as a peace offering. I need to kno

rin

cracking with emotion. "I appreciate your kindness, but I have so many questions that are tearing me apart inside. I'm completely in the dark abo

r me, and I feel trapped once again. "I want to be free. I don't want to be confined like this.

not possible," he says, shaking his head, and my heart

e, just let me go. I promise I'll come back whenever you need me. I give you my word. Yo

pts me with a loud roar, his

y knees weaken under me.

th

he shouts and turns his back on me, frustratingly

e so heartless? Does he not see the agony in my eyes? The desperation in my voice? I can't stay

," I say, trying to control the tremble in my voice. "I don't belong here. I don't know you

! You belong here, with us. You don't have any other place to go. You're a n

wn dreams, hopes, and fears. "I am grateful," I say, my voice shaking with rage. "Grateful for bein

of anger rising within me. I won't let him break me, not like the caretaker a

h word. "I'll find a way out, with or without your h

es. His forehead is creased with tension, his shoulders stiff, and his hands clenched into

just fine. Not that it makes me feel any better. "I shouldn't have said that..." he apologizes, but inste

king, especially when I need his help. It's up to me to make things right, to ap

p him, to plead with him to listen to me, but my wo

kers inside me. "By the way," he says, "the doors aren't locked anymore. You're free to lea

door, leaving me alone with my though

ked up

his

nds so hard in my chest that it feels like it might burst out any second. This could be my only opportunit

ic

ks. I can hardly believe it. Could it b

is my chance to break free from my prison, and I'm not going to waste it. But as I step out, my e

s for a new life come cra

here's a gua

o the bed, weeping until my tears run dry and the