Marceline let out a reluctant sigh, the kind that carried invisible weights and unspoken resistance. Her fingers twisted slightly in her lap, betraying the discomfort she was trying so hard to suppress. Of course, they were only doing their jobs—nothing personal, no malice. Still, it didn’t make it easier to swallow the bitter lump in her throat.

They’re just following orders, she reminded herself. Don’t blame them. Blame the man who built this life and locked you inside it.

She rose from the edge of the bed, her movements sluggish, as if her body resisted every step forward. Her bare feet touched the cold marble floor, grounding her in a...