Chapter 7

I didn't die, but I wasn't really living either.

I was locked in a room Luke had specially prepared for me in the Wilson house, existing in a state between life and death.

The windows were locked from the outside, airtight.

Inside the room, there was nothing but a bed and a bathroom, nothing else.

I looked at myself in the mirror, bandages wrapped around my neck, my face already gaunt and haggard.

Just like before, whenever I angered Luke, he would starve me for days.

He would starve me until I had no strength to argue with him, and only when I begged him for food would he be satisfied enough to let me out.

But this time, Luke noticed something was different.

Because I was getting thinner day by day, but there were no signs of me begging him.

So Luke changed his strategy. He started tormenting me day and night.

He violently forced himself on me, ravaging my mouth.

My stomach, already empty of food, kept churning with bile. I wanted to vomit but couldn't bring anything up.

Obviously, a body so thin it hurt to touch didn't arouse much interest in him.

Until one day, I started eating on my own.

Luke rushed home from the company, overjoyed, stroking my head and apologizing.

"I was wrong last time, it won't happen again."

"Will you forgive your brother, Lily?"

I put down the soup spoon, looked up at him, and agreed with a smile.

I had figured it out. I couldn't just die so easily.

I wanted to make Luke suffer unbearably, to make him experience pain worse than everything I had gone through.