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PROLOGUE 3

"Where is she? That witch!" Sandra exclaimed, her voice filled with rage and frustration.

Fixing her gaze upon Aurora, Sandra unleashed a barrage of words, fueled by rage and a desire for revenge.

"Do you honestly believe you can escape the consequences of ruining my life, you pitiful excuse for a human being?" Her voice seethed with venom as she drew closer. Her eyes pierced into Aurora's, brimming with a volatile blend of anger and malice.

Without warning, Sandra lunged forward and delivered a powerful slap across her face. The force of the blow sent her head spinning, her vision momentarily distorted. Pain radiated through Aurora's cheek, intensifying the throbbing ache that had already taken residence there.

She stumbled backward, her head colliding with the corner of a nearby table. A sharp, searing pain erupted in her temple, causing Aurora to cry out in anguish. The room seemed to spin, and she struggled to maintain her balance as she clutched the edge of the table for support, as Sandra pulled at her hair.

Aurora's hair became an unwilling captive, yanked forcefully as if on the verge of being torn from her scalp. Tears pooled in her eyes, distorting her vision with a watery haze. Desperation surged within her, as she pleaded with her uncle to cease the torment, yet her pleas fell upon indifferent ears. The echoes of her own anguished screams reverberated through the air, intertwining with the searing pain that surged through her body. Her heart galloped in her chest, held captive by a relentless grip of fear and anguish.

Her gaze lifted, consumed by an overwhelming agony, and she unleashed a piercing cry of sheer terror. The wrath that emanated from Sandra's eyes and resonated in every syllable of her voice held a paralyzing power.

Aurora stood frozen, petrified by the magnitude of what her tormentor was capable of.

"Tim just ended our relationship, and it's all because of you, Aurora," Sandra seethed, her voice dripping with venomous blame.

With a brutal tug, Sandra mercilessly seized Aurora's hair, her voice resonating with seething accusation as she unleashed a torrent of words. "My relationship is in ruins because of you! Tim ended things solely because of your wretched presence. You are a despicable bitch! He felt sorry for you at the party and shamefully defended your disgraceful behavior, tarnishing my reputation in the process. He had the audacity to label me as the one out of line, painting me as a spoiled brat!"

She cornered Aurora against the wall, her fingers constricting around her neck, cruelly severing the flow of air. Gasping for breath, Aurora's desperate cries intertwined with the excruciating pain, a relentless struggle for every ounce of oxygen. Sandra's sheer strength eclipsed her own, overpowering her in every conceivable way.

"You will pay for this, Aurora!" Sandra seethed, her hand connecting with my face in a resounding slap. Her words were filled with malice and contempt. "Just wait until everyone sees how truly unworthy you are."

Another harsh slap followed, sending my head crashing forcefully against the wall. The impact reverberated through my skull, intensifying the pain that already consumed me.

"All right, that's enough, Sandra," Margot called out dismissively,  as she entered the room. "You're ruining your nails for someone like her. You just had a manicure done" she chastised and then turned her gaze to Aurora

"Goodness, just look at her. Call Dr. Ross immediately and have him fix her up," Margot exclaimed with an air of annoyance. "I have a kitty party tomorrow, and I simply cannot have my friends witnessing her in such a state. It would only give rise to unnecessary gossip," she sighed, devoid of any hint of empathy.

The words were like a dagger to Aurora's wounded soul, further reinforcing her insignificance in their eyes. Helplessness and despair flooded my being as she yearned for an escape from the torment that plagued her existence.

Through the haze of pain, she could hear Sandra's cold laughter, a sound that pierced through her torment. It echoed in her ears, a haunting reminder of the cruelty that surrounded her. Each painful moment seemed to solidify the notion that she was nothing more than a plaything for their amusement, someone to be subjected to their sadistic whims.

As she cradled my throbbing head, tears streamed down my face, mixing with the remnants of my shattered spirit. The weight of their collective hatred bore down on her, threatening to crush what little strength remained within. But amidst the darkness, a flicker of resilience ignited within—a glimmer of determination to endure, to rise above the cruelty, and to one day break free from the chains that bound .


With exhaustion gripping her every limb, Aurora finally completed her tasks for the night. Her aunt and cousin had retired to the luxurious bedrooms, leaving her with a meager portion of the kitchen floor as her makeshift bed. As she lay down, shivering against the cold tiles, tears streamed down her face.

Aurora's eyes welled up with tears, her shoulders slumping under the weight of their words. The pain of her stutter, something she had battled with all her life, felt magnified in that moment. She longed to find her voice, to prove her worth, but the fear held her captive.

As she lay there, her spirit crushed by her uncle's harsh words, she silently vowed to herself that she would find the strength to overcome her stutter and the courage to stand up for herself. In the quiet solitude of the hallway, she wiped away her tears and summoned a flicker of determination within her.

"W- Will I-I ever es-escape this n-nightmare?" Aurora whispered to herself, her voice echoing in the silent darkness. "One d-day, I will b-break free and f-find a life where I am cher-cherished, where my sp-spirit can s-soar."

And in the midst of her anguish, a flicker of determination ignited within her. She vowed to endure, to hold onto hope, knowing that one day her suffering would transform into strength, and her dreams would guide her towards a brighter future.


Dr. Ross approached Aurora, who was lying on a small mattress on the kitchen floor. He felt deep sympathy for her as he gently examined her injuries, taking note of her drowsy state and the evident pain etched on her delicate face. The room was enveloped in a profound stillness, interrupted only by the faint sound of medical equipment humming softly.

As he delicately tended to Aurora's wounds, he couldn't help but be filled with a mixture of compassion and guilt. For the past decade, he had been the one providing solace and healing to her physical injuries, yet he carried the weight of his own inaction, hindered by the fear of losing his job. The hospital where he worked was owned by the influential Johnsons, a powerful family who seemed intertwined with the very individuals responsible for Aurora's suffering.

In the depths of his mind, Dr. Ross engaged in a silent conversation, the weight of his thoughts growing with each passing moment. Memories of Marco, Aurora's father, flooded his consciousness—memories of a man who had selflessly supported him, enabling him to pursue his dreams and become the doctor he was today. The debt he owed to Marco loomed large, and it was time to honor that debt by taking action.

As he continued to attend to Aurora, a resolute determination settled within Dr. Ross. He knew that he could no longer remain a passive bystander; he had to take a stand. The urgent need to liberate Aurora from the clutches of her tormentors weighed heavily on his mind.

Amidst the quiet room, Dr. Ross's thoughts raced, searching for a solution, for someone who could aid in this quest for justice. And then, like a beacon of hope, one name stood out:

Mr. William Knight.

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