Chapter 9
391words
My body was weak, but my heart was ice.
Frederick believed he'd found my weakness, providing "attentive care" while monitoring my every breath.
On discharge day, he wheeled me not home but to the seaside.
The salt breeze chilled my exposed skin.
He stopped the wheelchair and placed a black lacquered box in my lap.
My father's urn.
I reached out to touch its cold surface.
He slammed his hand down on mine, his voice gentle but venomous: "Your father is in my hands now, Sophie."
I looked up at him, my eyes glacial.
"If you want him properly buried, sign this agreement."
He produced another document and unfolded it before me.
It wasn't divorce papers.
It was a "Permanent Personal Attachment Agreement."
Each clause stabbed my eyes like poisoned needles.
One: Sophie Sullivan voluntarily surrenders all custody, visitation rights, and guardianship of her twin children, who become the sole property of Frederick Fisher.
Two: Sophie Sullivan shall never leave Frederick Fisher for any reason during her lifetime; her personal freedom becomes the sole property of Frederick Fisher.
Three: Sophie Sullivan must unconditionally obey all instructions from Frederick Fisher, without resistance or objection.
……
I looked at him and smiled.
"You truly are completely insane, Frederick."
He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his obsessive, manic gaze: "I'm crazy? YOU drove me to this! I only want you by my side forever—is that so wrong?"
He thrust a pen into my hand. "Sign it, and I'll find the most auspicious burial site for your father. Otherwise…"
He lifted the urn, poising to throw it into the churning sea.
"I'll scatter him in these cold waters to wander as a restless spirit forever!"
I stared at the urn hovering over the waves, then at his face—twisted with the thrill of absolute control.
I closed my eyes. When I opened them, they held nothing but emptiness.
I didn't take his pen.
Instead, I bit my fingertip savagely.
Blood welled forth.
At the bottom of his contract, I pressed my bloody fingerprint.
This wasn't freedom.
I had bound myself with chains worse than death, plunging into an abyss deeper than hell itself.
Frederick's face lit with triumphant satisfaction.
In my heart, I whispered: Soon you'll discover, Frederick, that you haven't secured my submission—you've signed your family's death warrant.
