POV: Maya

I hadn't left the guest house in three days. The walls felt like they were closing in, but somehow staying inside felt safer than facing the world outside. Safer than facing the truth of what had been done to me.

My phone buzzed for the hundredth time. I ignored it, just like I'd ignored all the others. Mom kept knocking on my bedroom door, her voice thin with worry, but I couldn't bring myself to open it. How could I tell her? How could I explain that while we slept, while we changed clothes, while we lived our lives thinking we had privacy, strangers had been watching?

The...