She described the marriage as a gilded prison. Every attempt to leave met resistance and manipulation engineered to make escape impossible.

When she got pregnant, she understood that the child wouldn’t be a son to him. He’d be an asset. Something to be shaped into another extension of his reach.

“I knew that if I ran with you, he’d find us and take you back.” The tears were coming freely now. “And if he took you, he’d turn you into something you were never meant to be.”

The word you went through me before I could stop it from landing.

“No.” I was already shaking my head.

“Yes, Travis.” Quiet. “You’re that child.”