His Penance, My Freedom

an i

t, devoid of any emotio

. My father was dead. The man I married was a monster. And thi

ight in the eye. "I'm done. I'

quickly replaced by fury. No one said

y to me?" he growled,

ining strength. "Give me the papers

e time to react. He grabbed my

I say you can le

ot through my lower abdomen, far sharper and more terrifying than

ation spread thr

nd absolute,

, the word a pray

ain was blooming on the

oo

eyes pleading. "The baby... som

eadable for a second. Was tha

oncern. "A baby? Oh, Chloe, the lengths you'll go to

e. He looked from me to the floor, where the broken coffee mu

is voice laced with disgust. "You're

w with pain and terror. "I'm ble

one, to call for help, but he blocked my p

whisper. "You want to end up in a hospital? You want to end up like you

e. He was using my father's death, my mos

of me, replaced by a c

hing. He had let my father die. He would

y body went limp, a pup

surrender as obedience. He released my

orcelain and the spilled coffee. My blood

t, throbbing agony. Each movement sent a fresh wave of it through m

atched me for a

said to her. "Let's l

s fading as they went downstairs. I heard th

urrounded by the debris of my life. The b

r. They weren't tears of grief for my

ife inside me. A life I had wanted so desp

y stomach, a silent,

ght. I'm so sorry I

e my breath. I collapsed onto my side, curling into a b

k. The last thing I saw before I passed out was the single