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35: The Knot Of Realization. Of Truth.

The air within the room thins as Cato goes to leave. He stops short and time stands still as he lingers in the doorway, a dark glare to his eyes, sinister smirk on his lips. “Get comfortable. You’re gonna be staying for awhile.” He doesn’t linger to take in the horror his words cause. Instead, he chuckles and slams the door shut, an audible click sounds from the otherside.

As if being handcuffed to a bed isn’t enough. Suddenly, I’m forced to face my fate head on. Locked away like a prisoner, held captive by wolves.

The silence from Cato’s retreat doesn’t come. Voices sound from outside. An argument. And my so-called sister is instigating it. Before my voice box can let a single peep out, Twyla snaps, “you’re welcome.”

You’re welcome? What does that even mean? Sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging at the cuff, I strain to get as close to the door as possible.

“Don’t let your ego get too large. One could say that your useless now.” Cato taunts.

“Useless? She wouldn’t even be in
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