THE dim light in the room barely illuminated the bruises that lined Orlanda's skin. Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless, soaking into the pillow beneath her. She had passed out, and all Oswald could do was pour water on her to revive her, and it did worked.

Her body ached in places she hadn't known could hurt. For days now, she had known no peace. Oswald had taken every part of her.

If he was known as ruthless, then she had truly lived to experience it, in the worst way possible. Her lips trembled as she curled herself into a tighter ball on the bed.

What exactly was...