The tears in her eyes. Her accepting my invitation back to our home. Her cheerful wave as she walked out the door into the crisp winter air.
It was all a lie?
Willow is on Knox's side?
A sickening wave of nausea surges up my throat, far worse than the lingering taste of the chloroform. The room tilts on its axis as my brain violently struggles to process the betrayal.
Willow – the woman who does yoga retreats for women seeking answers, the woman who shared a victory with me just hours ago – handed my deepest secrets straight to the man who abused me. She handed me straight to him. She set the trap and watched me walk into it.
"No," I breathe out, my voice trembling as my mind revolts against the horrifying reality. "No... Willow wouldn't..."
"Willow is on my side, darling," Knox sa
