His fist connects with my jaw.
My head jerks—but nothing moves. Like my body didn’t register the blow. My face should’ve turned. My vision should’ve flickered. But everything holds still. Unnatural.Wrong.
His laugh is low. Too calm.
“Thank you,” he says sweetly.
Another punch.
“Thank you for the permission, baby.”
A third one. Sharp. My jaw screams.
“I did it. I did. Look what Idid.”
His voice is high now. Mocking. Almost childlike.
“I’m doing it, Gree. Youtoldme to.”
I writhe. Try again. Lift your arms. Fight back. But my limbs are cinderblocks. My body doesn’t listen.
He leans down, breath hot and sour on my cheek.
“You’re the best. Always so naive. Soselfless.”
Another punch.
“Sotrusting.”
Another hit.
“Thank you!”
I can’t scream. Can’t move. The silence around me is suffocating.
Where is Advik?
Oh god—where is he?
My thoughts splinter. I try to focus. The blood. The tile. The sound of my own heartbeat—except it’s not right. It’s not syncing. It’s staggered.
“I said thank you,” the man sings again, fists rising one last time.
Then—
Another hand grabs my shoulders. Tight. Urgent.
“Greesha!” someone hisses. “Baby—hey!Jaan!Thank you!”
The voice. Familiar. Too real but disoriented. It cuts through the static, but I’m still somewhere between the tile and the softness, still under that bastard’s weight, still gasping for air I can’t find.
My arms flail in resistance. I grunt low in my throat, struggling against something—someone—holding me down.
“Greesha, it’s me!” the voice pleads again. “It’s me, Advik. Wake up. Please...please, please, please!
I blink.
Once. Twice.
