The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden streaks through the tall windows of the Crownstar mansion. The grand house, so opulent and gilded, felt more like a gilded cage to her a place where splendor suffocated, and freedom was nothing but a dream.
The mother and daughter duo, with their sharp tongues and sharper glares, ensured that she felt every ounce of her captivity. It had been weeks since Kellan had forced her here, weeks since her life had shifted into this torment again.
The vast hallways echoed with the sound of her work scrubbing, dusting, wiping. Every creak of the wooden floors beneath her feet was a reminder of the mansion's sprawling, inescapable enormity.
Today was no different. She crouched by the baseboards, a damp rag in her hand, scrubbing a spot that didn't exist. Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, and her thoughts spiraled in an endless loop of despair.
Until the nausea hit.