A violent tremor ripped through my body. Did he not know I was afraid of the dark?
I clutched the hem of his jacket, begging. "No! Dustin, don't you remember? I'm afraid of the dark."
After we married, once he found out about my fear, Dustin always left a light on for me no matter how late I came home. He never let me go near dark, cramped places like the basement.
Now he was going to lock me in there. For her.
Dustin pried my fingers off one by one, staring down at me from his full height. His voice held no trace of warmth. "Of course I remember."
"But if I don't do this, how will you ever learn your lesson? How will you stop tormenting Alice?"
No matter how I struggled, I couldn't earn a single look of mercy from him.
All he saw was that insignificant red mark on Alice's forehead.
He couldn't see the blood on my face. The swollen handprint. He could only see Alice.
A wretched laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
I gasped for air like a fish dragged onto dry land, my body limp, boneless, as the bodyguards hauled me into the basement and tossed me inside.
The heavy door groaned shut. In the last sliver of light, I saw Alice nestled in Dustin's arms, peering over his shoulder at me, her lips curving into a smile as sweet as it was venomous.
I closed my eyes in despair.
Darkness swallowed me whole. I spiraled into endless panic, endless terror, until consciousness slipped away entirely and everything went black.
### Chapter 5
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the hotel. I had no idea when or how I'd been brought here.
Sunlight sliced through the window. I stared at the ceiling for a long time before the memories pieced themselves together. The basement. The darkness. Passing out. They'd tossed me in there like a broken piece of furniture they no longer had use for.
Dustin's messages sat waiting on my phone.
"Letting it slide this time. Alice's condition is unstable. You'd better not provoke her again, or I'll make sure you learn your lesson."
"I'm taking her abroad for treatment. I won't be able to go to your prenatal appointments."
I'd barely finished reading when my phone buzzed again—the notification tone I'd set for priority alerts. Alice had updated her social media.
In the photo, a man's familiar back filled the frame. A woman rested her head on his shoulder, the two of them nestled together against a backdrop of glaciers and penguins in Antarctica.