t of the mountains

stons. They left me there as a child, a bad omen they ha

inston estate was its gilded center. My father, Mr. Winston,

" he said, hi

are. One night, for using my hands to eat, my father had the head of security hold me down while he struck me

orced me into dresses that felt like traps. She paraded me in

child," she'd say

beautiful, poised, and her eyes held a special kind of cruel

neered, poking my arm with a manicured f

k. I just moved. My hand shot out, and my nails, untrim

scre

ness had to be cleansed. He and the head of security dragge

the filth aw

old, burning my lungs. I thrashed, but they w

e cut throug

d's name ar

r streaming from my nose and mouth,

at my father. He was young, handsome, and wearing a suit th

ping his jacket around m

?" he asked. His

stared at him, my heart h

ily as prominent as the Winstons.

ston. You could go

st time since I'd arri

didn't look at me with disgust. He defended me, spoke to me soft

y only link to home, the only family I had known for twenty years. Seeing him in a la

rescuer, my soulmate. He asked me to marry him, and I bel

w watched as I stood in a white dress that felt like a shroud. I just focus

on the Winston estate, he

he said

began to spread through my limbs. I felt dizzy, my th

stone wall, trying to clear my vision. Below, near Fang's enclosure, I saw tw

" the ground

old. Empty. "She'll be unconscious soon. Get the cage

doing with it

cident. A wild animal trying to escape. The vet knows what to do. He'll euthanize it

od wen

that mutt," the

es. "It's a filthy, primal thing. Just like her. Do you have any idea what it's been like, pretending to love th

lack tide. I fought it, clinging to the cold stone, my min

rred, the two figures below melting into the darkness. I managed to stay cons

rything w