"You really don't need to apologize to me. It's fine if Timothy hit me a couple of times."

Celine shot Brent a look of tender concern, then turned on me with fury. "Timothy Henson, you're absolutely incorrigible. I shouldn't have come to pick you up today. You can stay here another six months."

Panic seized me.

Every waking moment, I'd dreamed of escaping this hellhole. Six more months in this place would break me completely.

I dropped to my knees, begging. "Mrs. Gilbert, I was wrong. Please, I'm begging you—have mercy."

I pressed my forehead to the floor before Celine, then turned and did the same to Brent. "Mr. Pruitt, I'll never do it again. I'll do whatever you say from now on."

This only enraged Celine further. She kicked me hard. "Timothy, are you putting on this pathetic display just to disgust me?"

"I only sent you to a Men's Virtue Program. Is this really necessary?"

I curled into myself on the floor, sobbing. "Don't hit me. Please don't hit me. I'm begging you. I'll do anything."

Celine froze.

She reached down and grabbed my wrist. "Timothy... do they beat you here often?"

Before I could answer, Instructor Knox—who had been standing nearby—went pale.

She hurried over, her face arranged into an ingratiating smile. "Mrs. Gilbert, you've misunderstood."

"Our program is built on moral cultivation."

"We treat every student here like our own child. We would never lay a hand on them."

Celine shoved her aside impatiently.

She lifted my shirt, checking for injuries.

What met her eyes was unblemished skin.

No scars. Not even a bruise.

Celine shoved me away in disgust. "Timothy, you've really perfected the art of playing victim, haven't you?"

I wept.

When I'd first arrived at this place, Instructor Knox had ordered me to "entertain" clients.

When I refused, they'd beaten me savagely.

But recently, they hadn't touched me.

Because now they had leverage—my daughter.

Whenever I disobeyed, they beat Sophie instead.

Her agonized screams haunted my nightmares.

I had no choice but to submit. To please them. To do whatever it took so my daughter could eat a full meal, so she wouldn't be tortured.

There were times when clients gave me poor reviews.

Sophie would be dragged in immediately and beaten right in front of me.

All I could do was throw myself over her body, sobbing, begging them for another chance, promising I'd do better...

The memories crashed over me like a wave.

But Instructor Knox stood right there, her eyes boring into me with silent warning.

I didn't dare say a word.

I could only kneel there, pleading with Celine over and over. "Please. Take me home."

"I don't have to be your husband. I'll be a servant. A slave. Anything. Just take me away from here."

But my desperation only deepened Celine's contempt. "Timothy, you haven't learned anything useful here, but you've certainly mastered the art of looking pitiful."

"Too bad you're terrible at it. I'm not an idiot. You can't fool me."

Brent's eyes welled with tears. "Timothy, you don't have to do this."

"Making a scene like this—you're not just humiliating yourself, you're humiliating Celine too."

"I swear, from now on, I won't talk back when you scold me or fight back when you hit me. Just stop being so stubborn with her."

He reached out to help me up.

I recoiled as if from a venomous snake, scrambling backward. "Stay away from me."

More than women, I feared the touch of men.

There had been several times when those wealthy wives' husbands discovered what went on at this place.

To smooth things over, the Men's Virtue Program threw me under the bus. They claimed I'd been the one causing trouble—secretly seducing wealthy women.

Their husbands took out their rage on me. They jabbed me with needles, burned me with lighters, stomped on me with their leather shoes until I couldn't breathe...

I was traumatized. Broken.

I was terrified. Truly, deeply terrified.

Now only one thought remained in my head:

Celine belongs to Brent. I'll never dare try to take her again.

At that moment, Celine looked at me with disgust. "Timothy, what happened to you? You're no different from some gutter trash throwing a tantrum in the streets. Clearly, six months wasn't long enough."

I was paralyzed with fear.

Terror had numbed my brain, clouded my thoughts until nothing made sense anymore.

Only one thought echoed: It's over. It's over. Another client is unhappy with me.

"Sophie. Don't hurt my Sophie."

Without thinking, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the "candy." I didn't count how many—I just shoved them into my mouth while no one was watching.

The "candy" was from Instructor Knox.

She'd told me that taking it would make me more "professional." That clients would be more satisfied.

But I had to take it secretly. The clients needed to believe they were the ones who'd reduced me to this state. It gave them a sense of accomplishment.

The candy kicked in fast. I lost all shame, pressing myself against Celine, against every client in the room.

Celine screamed in fury and slapped me hard across the face.

Half my face swelled instantly. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

"Timothy, you're a pathetic, disgusting excuse for a man!" She spat the words through clenched teeth.

Her hands closed around my throat, squeezing until I couldn't breathe.

She hissed in my ear: "Rot here. Don't ever expect me to take you out of this place."

"Where's my daughter? I'm only taking her today."

Celine threw me to the ground.

Still not satisfied, she kicked me hard in the stomach.

I curled into a ball on the floor, bent like a shrimp, gasping through the pain.

"Where is my daughter? Bring her to me. We're leaving. Now." Celine's voice was a snarl aimed at Instructor Knox.

The instructor's face tightened with discomfort. "Your daughter... we don't actually know where she is."

Celine's expression shifted to shock, then rage. "What?"

Instructor Knox sighed. "Since your husband and daughter arrived, we've done everything to accommodate them."

"But they used their status as wealthy elites to act however they pleased. They looked down on us completely. If we so much as raised our voices, they'd strike us."

Celine slammed her palm on the table. "I sent them here precisely to fix that attitude!"

"I told you before—discipline them as needed. Don't hold back!"

A bitter smile crossed the instructor's face. "But your daughter... she's young, yet her temper is fierce."

"She refused to let us follow her. She goes wherever she wants. And she made it clear—if we tried to control her, she'd kill herself."

"All we can confirm is that she's still somewhere on the grounds. She hasn't escaped."

Veins bulged at Celine's temples. "Check the surveillance. Find her. Now."

Half an hour later, someone from the security room rushed in, breathless. "We found her, but..."

Celine shoved past her. "But what? Where is she?"

The staff member held out a USB drive. "See for yourself."

Inside was a video.

Her daughter was in a corner, wrapped in the arms of a man.

She kissed the man willingly—even initiated it. Through the grainy footage, her voice was faintly audible: "Do you like it?"

The video was short. Celine nearly choked on her own rage.

Her foot slammed into my chest. "This is the daughter you raised."

I crashed to the floor.

The pain cut through the fog in my head—just for a moment.

I stared at the screen, something like grief stirring beneath the haze. "Sophie... how could she? Did I fail to protect her after all?"

Then the drugs pulled me back under.

I lay on the cold floor, giggling like an idiot.

The clip was only a few seconds long, dated three days ago. It told us nothing about where my daughter was now.

Instructor Knox had suggested I might know Sophie's whereabouts.

Celine's fists came down on me again and again. Even when I started coughing up blood, she didn't stop.

"Tell me." She grabbed my ear and twisted, wrenching it until I felt the cartilage start to tear. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" The words came out as a sob.

I really didn't.

I hadn't seen my daughter in so long.

The people at the Men's Virtue Program told me I had too many negative reviews. They said I needed five thousand satisfied clients to give me positive ratings before they'd let me see her.

So I kept taking the pills. Kept seeing the clients.

The drugs did something to my brain. Even in the gaps between doses, everything stayed blurry. My thoughts scattered like startled birds. Sometimes I saw things that weren't there.

Celine kicked me again, disgusted. She turned to Instructor Knox. "Where would the girl most likely go? Search everywhere. Every inch."

She wrenched my arms behind my back and shoved me forward. "Find her."

I stumbled along, not knowing where I was going.

Instinct carried me to my quarters.

This was where I slept. Where I'd been caged for six months.

The moment I stepped inside, the memories flooded back—none of them good.

My eyes darted around the room, wild with fear. Then I crept toward the closet and pressed a finger to my lips.

"Shh," I whispered. "Stay hidden, sweetheart. Don't come out. Don't make a sound."

Celine shoved me into the corner.

"Sophie!" she barked. "Are you hiding in there?"

She yanked the closet door open so hard it nearly toppled over.

Then she froze.

The closet was empty.

Completely empty—except for a single two-inch photograph taped to the back wall.

Sophie's face smiled out at us. Sweet. Innocent.

Like a memorial portrait.

Celine's eyes went bloodshot. She grabbed my collar and hauled me up until we were nose to nose. "Are you playing games with me, Timothy? Do you think I'm a joke?"

I shook my head frantically, trembling, begging without words.

One of Celine's friends frowned. "Celine... does Timothy seem off to you?"

"He looks like he's suffered some kind of psychological trauma. He's not all there."

Celine let out a cold laugh. "He's just a good actor. What trauma could he possibly have?"

"This facility is reputable. Excellent reviews."

"And even if something had happened, he could have called me anytime. I would have come immediately."

The others nodded in agreement.

I stared at Celine, the bitterness rising in my throat like bile.

One phone call, and you would have come?

Really?

The day I arrived at the Men's Virtue Program, Instructor Knox confiscated my phone. Then she sent me to my first client.

I was terrified. Furious. I screamed and cursed at them.

That night, they beat me until I couldn't stand.

When Sophie and I tried to escape, she created a distraction so I could slip into Instructor Knox's office. I managed to steal her phone.