Stephen's beloved Phoebe fell into a coma.

To everyone, I became the villain—accused of harming her out of unrequited love for Stephen.

Mute, I had no way to defend myself before Stephen locked me away in the basement. He said I would only be freed when Phoebe woke up.

Broken and hopeless, I succumbed to fear and starvation, eventually developing amnesia. Day by day, my memories began to slip away.

Yet, Stephen, tears in his eyes, begged me not to forget him.

But all I wanted was to leave it all behind and keep moving forward.

Phoebe Dover, Stephen Linnell's beloved, lay in a coma.

As for me, a mute, I hadn't even been given the chance to defend myself before Stephen locked me away in his basement.

Fear and hunger consumed me, my spirit shattered. Over time, I developed amnesia. Each day, more of my memories slipped away, little by little.

Stephen sneered at me, accusing me of faking it, but I could barely remember who he was anymore.

…

The door to the basement creaked open, letting in a sliver of light.

I instinctively raised my hand to shield my eyes from the brightness that stung after so long in darkness.

"Well, Raelynn Swales, are you still refusing to admit your fault?" Stephen asked.

He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light behind him. His smirk was derisive, as though certain he wouldn't get the answer he wanted.

As my eyes adjusted, I slowly lowered my hand.

I opened my mouth, but it was useless—I was mute.

Stephen couldn't see my sign language in the dark, and I had no way to make him understand.

I had tried before—filling pages with explanations, pouring my innocence onto paper. But he tore them apart, never reading a word.

Again and again, he demanded to know why I hurt Phoebe. And again and again, I screamed silently in my heart that I didn't do it.

It didn't matter. He didn't care if I was guilty or innocent. All he wanted was to punish me in Phoebe's name.

When I didn't respond, Stephen hesitated before letting out a scoff. He slammed a food box down onto the floor with a thud.

"Until Phoebe wakes up, you'll stay here and atone for your sins, one day at a time," he said.

After he left, the lights in the basement flickered on.

The basement had all the essentials for survival, but the lights only stayed on for ten minutes each day.

In those ten minutes, I had to eat the only meal I'd get for the entire day. Once the light went out, everything I did had to be in darkness.

Stephen called it my punishment. He said Phoebe lived in darkness every day because of me, so why should I be allowed any light?

Even after Stephen left, I didn't touch the food, though hunger gnawed at my stomach.

Instead, I pulled out a thick stack of papers and began reading through the notes I had written. I skimmed the old ones as quickly as I could, jotting down new details with trembling hands.

In the past few days, more and more of my memories had slipped away.

These few minutes of light were my only chance to hold onto what little I had left—an opportunity to review my notes and document anything I could still recall.

I was terrified—terrified of quietly dying here, unnoticed and forgotten, even by myself.

One word at a time, I wrote: "They are committing a crime. Raelynn Swales must survive. Survive and find the light."

Phoebe had been in a coma for nearly a month. Before her accident, she had asked to meet me.

I had already been unnerved by her manipulative behavior in the past and wanted to refuse, but under Stephen's disdainful gaze, I found myself unable to protest. Instead, I lowered my head and silently acquiesced.

This was always how it went. Years of ingrained self-doubt followed me like a shadow, especially when Stephen was involved.

No matter how much I tried to stand tall, I felt like a balloon—fragile and ready to burst. The closer I got to Stephen, the sharper his edges became, always puncturing my resolve.

…

Phoebe arrived wearing a white dress, her gaze gentle, her voice as soft as her appearance.

"Raelynn," she said, her tone calm and understanding. "I know you once saved Stephen, and I'm grateful for that. But he's my boyfriend. Please, stop interfering with our relationship, okay?"

I clenched my fists, my palms slick with sweat. I had no idea what Phoebe's real intentions were, which only made me more nervous.

In my experience, the softer her tone, the heavier the blame she was about to place on me.

I quickly gestured in sign language, "I haven't been near Stephen lately. Please, believe me."

Phoebe smiled warmly and reached out as if to reassure me with a pat on the shoulder. The moment her hand came close, I instinctively flinched and raised my hands in a defensive push.

She smirked, leaning into the motion before tumbling dramatically down the staircase.

"Raelynn, what have you done?!" Stephen growled.

I knew he had been watching from nearby. I wouldn't dare provoke Phoebe on purpose, but it didn't matter.

…

Phoebe never woke up after that fall.

The doctors said that if she remained unconscious much longer, she might spend the rest of her life in a vegetative state.

Stephen, his eyes red with fury, dragged me to the dark, suffocating basement. He told me that as long as Phoebe remained in her coma, I would never see the light of day.

The basement was cold, damp, and oppressive.

Stephen brought me only one meal a day.

At first, I was utterly terrified, so frightened that I forced my eyes open wide in the darkness, straining to see anything.

When a rat scurried by, my heart pounded uncontrollably. As a mute, however, no matter how terrified I was, I couldn't make a sound.

All I could do was curl up against the wall, clutching myself tightly and trembling as fear consumed me.

I couldn't understand why Phoebe would go to such lengths to frame me.

She already had everything she wanted.

Compared to her, I was nothing more than the mud at the bottom of a pond, looking up longingly at the lotus in full bloom above the water.

People used to say that if it weren't for Stephen, I would never have lived such a comfortable life.

I forced a bitter smile at the thought.

Why did no one believe me, no matter what I said?

Everyone assumed I had ulterior motives toward Stephen, that I was greedy for the wealth and status of the Linnells.

It wasn't like that at all. He was the boy I had saved one rainy night. He was the one who had made me a promise.

He had said he'd take care of me and that I'd never have to scavenge for scraps again. He had said I could go to school, just like everyone else, and someday choose my own life. He had said he'd always treat me like a little sister.

Now, he had locked me in this lightless basement.