Sold, Framed, Now She's Free

began with Brenda, always Brenda, her sweet, innocent façade hiding a viper' s cunning. She played the victim, weaving a tale of

with him to see through her charade. He just looked at me with tho

me to the auction block, my body reeling from the drugs Brenda had slipped into my champagne. I saw Brenda then, nestled again

me. My skin crawled. The auctioneer' s voice boomed, chilling me to

ird desperate for escape. I met Chandler' s ga

of emotion. "You brought this upon yourself, Ch

, sold to the highest bidder. The shame was a physical weight, crushing me, suffocat

structive rage. I saw the faces of my tormentors, their triumphant sneers, and I snapped. I grabbed a torch, fueled by alcohol

pted murder. Chandler, ever the dutiful guardian, testified against me. He swore I' d tried to kill Brenda,

rvive, to become as hard and unyielding as the walls that confined me. My only lifeline, my only hope, wa

rutal existence, a constant fight for survival. Every punch, every kick, every drop of blood w

rlwind of pain and betrayal, the first words out of my mout

comfortably. He looked away, his silence a punch to the g

A naive, desperate fool. I would just have t

ying to push myself up. "I have

ce was gentle, but firm. "You can't f

ess the words. "Banned? Wh

x. He made some calls. Said if anyone lets you fight, they'll los

dler. He wasn' t just trying to shame me; h

from Mr. Cox. For your... medical expenses." He didn't meet my eyes. H

ope I had clung to, every dream of reclaiming my past, sha

ed down, cold and relentless, mirroring the storm raging inside me. I walked aimlessly,

beacon of warmth and love

tanding tall and imposing, a predatory smirk on his face. And b

s family brownstone has been officially transferred to the Brenda Richardson Philanthropic Foundation. Brend

name. My home. All stolen. All twisted into a grotesque mockery. My vision swam

hone. A name flashed before my eyes, a forgotten

a desperate plea, "take me aw