The Scars We Carry

The heavy iron gate of the juvenile detention center groaned open, a sound I had dreamed of for five long years.

I stepped out, a small, warm hand in mine-Leo' s. He was my only good thing from that hellhole, a promise to his dying mother.

But freedom felt just as suffocating as my cell, because the world outside held nothing but the bitter truth.

The Blackwood family, powerful and relentless, had already claimed everything I loved.

They had driven my parents to suicide with their lies and pressure, all while I was locked away, helpless, branded "Chloe the Monster."