10- The Aftermath

**Isabella**

I don’t know how I manage to drag myself back to the orphanage. My body feels like it’s made of lead, every step a struggle. The adrenaline that fueled my escape has long since worn off, leaving only exhaustion, pain, and a deep, gnawing fear.

But even as my legs threaten to give out, even as my bleeding arm throbs with every heartbeat, all I can think about is what just happened. The terror, the fury, the way I stood up to Aiden and struck him… and the way he looked at me afterward, like I was something he needed to destroy.

I should be terrified—no, I *am* terrified—but there’s something else too, something that feels dangerously like satisfaction. I slapped him. I stood up to him. In that moment, when the fear boiled over into rage, I wasn’t just a victim—I fought back. And even though I know I’ve only made things worse for myself, there’s a small, dark part of me that feels… proud.

But that pride is quickly overshadowed by the stark reality of my situation. I can stil