Rosalie's POV
As I heard the basement door close, every muscle in my body went rigid, my chains rattling against the concrete floor. Even before I saw his face, I knew it was Hugo. The familiar footsteps—my body had been programmed like a lab rat to recognize the signals of his arrival, trained through pain to anticipate what was coming.
My name is Rosalie, though sometimes when he looks at me, I know he's seeing someone else. Someone named Sylvia.
The bruises covering my body pulsed with fresh agony as I shifted, each one a reminder of my failed escape attempts. Two months in this basement - or had it been three? Time had become meaningless in the darkness, marked only by his visits.
When Hugo first found me, I had been injured and alone. I don't remember how I got those wou
