"You really don't need to apologize to me. It's fine if Timothy hit me a couple of times."
Celine shot Brent a look of tender concern, then turned on me with fury. "Timothy Henson, you're absolutely incorrigible. I shouldn't have come to pick you up today. You can stay here another six months."
Panic seized me.
Every waking moment, I'd dreamed of escaping this hellhole. Six more months in this place would break me completely.
I dropped to my knees, begging. "Mrs. Gilbert, I was wrong. Please, I'm begging you—have mercy."
I pressed my forehead to the floor before Celine, then turned and did the same to Brent. "Mr. Pruitt, I'll never do it again. I'll do whatever you say from now on."
This only enraged Celine further. She kicked me hard. "Timothy, are you putting on this pathetic display just to disgust me?"
"I only sent you to a Men's Virtue Program. Is this really necessary?"
I curled into myself on the floor, sobbing. "Don't hit me. Please don't hit me. I'm begging you. I'll do anything."
Celine froze.
She reached down and grabbed my wrist. "Timothy... do they beat you here often?"
Before I could answer, Instructor Knox—who had been standing nearby—went pale.
She hurried over, her face arranged into an ingratiating smile. "Mrs. Gilbert, you've misunderstood."
"Our program is built on moral cultivation."
"We treat every student here like our own child. We would never lay a hand on them."
Celine shoved her aside impatiently.
She lifted my shirt, checking for injuries.
What met her eyes was unblemished skin.
No scars. Not even a bruise.
Celine shoved me away in disgust. "Timothy, you've really perfected the art of playing victim, haven't you?"
I wept.
When I'd first arrived at this place, Instructor Knox had ordered me to "entertain" clients.
When I refused, they'd beaten me savagely.
But recently, they hadn't touched me.
Because now they had leverage—my daughter.
Whenever I disobeyed, they beat Sophie instead.
Her agonized screams haunted my nightmares.
I had no choice but to submit. To please them. To do whatever it took so my daughter could eat a full meal, so she wouldn't be tortured.
There were times when clients gave me poor reviews.
Sophie would be dragged in immediately and beaten right in front of me.
All I could do was throw myself over her body, sobbing, begging them for another chance, promising I'd do better...
The memories crashed over me like a wave.
But Instructor Knox stood right there, her eyes boring into me with silent warning.
I didn't dare say a word.
I could only kneel there, pleading with Celine over and over. "Please. Take me home."
"I don't have to be your husband. I'll be a servant. A slave. Anything. Just take me away from here."
But my desperation only deepened Celine's contempt. "Timothy, you haven't learned anything useful here, but you've certainly mastered the art of looking pitiful."
"Too bad you're terrible at it. I'm not an idiot. You can't fool me."
Brent's eyes welled with tears. "Timothy, you don't have to do this."
"Making a scene like this—you're not just humiliating yourself, you're humiliating Celine too."
"I swear, from now on, I won't talk back when you scold me or fight back when you hit me. Just stop being so stubborn with her."
He reached out to help me up.
I recoiled as if from a venomous snake, scrambling backward. "Stay away from me."
More than women, I feared the touch of men.
There had been several times when those wealthy wives' husbands discovered what went on at this place.
