The bar was called The Rusty Anchor, a dive in a part of the city where the neon signs flickered and the people didn't ask questions. Selena sat in the corner booth, her hood pulled low over her eyes. The scent of cheap whiskey and stale cigarettes was a relief; it was a human smell, far away from the sterile, lavender-scented prison of Marcellus’s penthouse.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR4hUdVNQhu
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She downed her third drink, the liquid burning a path to her stomach. She felt the weight of the stares from across the room—men looking at her, wondering if she was lonely. They had no idea that her "lonely" was a sanctuary.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzr6f59MPcK
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She paid in cash—bills she had earned doing honest, heavy-lifting work at the docks—and walked home.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCZPCsrcYHk
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Her new apartment was small. It was a studio with peeling wallpaper and a radiator that hissed like a wounded animal. It was perfect because Marcellus had never touched the walls.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHYt7Mi0Z8S
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Selena locked the three deadbolts on the door—a habit she couldn't quite shake—and stepped into the bathroom. The light hummed to life, casting a harsh, clinical glow over the room. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, then stepped out of her jeans.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRhykaJZD7x
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She stood naked before the full-length mirror, her reflection staring back with eyes that were tired but present.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgfIK5UPRHa
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She looked at her body. It was a weapon of incredible power. She traced the line of her shoulder, the curve of her waist, the muscles of her thighs. For four years, this body had been a machine operated by a monster. It had been touched, used, and forced into a cycle of unendurable frustration.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuQK9MyKQKM
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She moved her hand toward her hip. Her fingers twitched. For a split second, her brain felt that old, phantom pull—the "command" to touch herself, to please an invisible master.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvYUuN4QYRO
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"I am Selena Hart," she whispered to the glass.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8VdfHXSKpV
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She looked at her eyes. They didn't roll back. They stayed fixed on her own reflection. But the doubt was there, a cold shadow in the corner of her mind. Was she truly free, or was she just a clock that he had wound up so tightly that she would keep ticking his way forever?70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrV5pOhYus4
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She reached out and touched the glass, her fingertips meeting her own. The glass cracked under the slight, unconscious pressure of her strength.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFzZiuywKHH
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She wasn't sure if the "String" was completely gone. Maybe she would always hear his voice in the quiet moments. Maybe she would always feel the ghost of his denial. But as she looked at her shattered reflection, she realized that even if the string was still there, she was the one holding the scissors now.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq7HonX9JFB
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She turned off the light, leaving the room in darkness. She didn't need to see herself to know she was still standing.70Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHawo0FX1Hk
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