The days after the discovery blurred into a suffocating routine.
I smiled for the children. I let Alexander hold me at night. I even let him f**k me — slow and careful because of the pregnancy — while pretending the horror in my heart wasn’t growing bigger every hour. But inside, I was screaming.
The rose-gold collar, once a symbol of love and surrender, now felt like a shackle. Every time it brushed my skin, I remembered my mother’s terrified voice in that video.
Alexander knew I was pulling away. He always knew.
On the sixth day, he canceled all his calls and found me in the nursery, folding tiny clothes with shaking hands. Our two older children were napping. The island was quiet except for the distant sound of waves.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crosse
