After Nash exposed my private feelings, the environment at home became so twisted that I couldn’t focus on my studies properly.

Bronx was perplexed and more patient, guiding me through my lessons and encouraging me repeatedly.

But he didn’t know that during those nights when he was so thoughtfully considering my well-being, I was sinking into dirty mud, repeatedly on the brink of death.

Afterward, Nash pressed me against the window, pointing at Bronx, who had been standing downstairs for I don’t know how long, and mockingly asked if my little boyfriend might suddenly look up.

My resistance only led to more violent treatment, eventually turning into imprisonment. I kept...