Chapter 4 · free to read
Twenty-four years. I had built her from a photograph and a lie. She was taller than the story.
She didn't flee your father's violence into hiding. She fled it into an empire of her own.
She never came unprotected. The ghost had teeth in every gallery.
She spoke one name. Not Salvi. And I felt the floor I'd feared finally open.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.