Lucky had never felt so alone in her life.
The night it happened, Adrian's words and actions left her trembling in ways she couldn't name. All the kindness, the warmth, the small comforts—it had been a mask. The man she had trusted the most, the first human she had let herself believe in, had used that trust to control her.
She sat on the floor of the apartment, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Her reflection in the dark window was unfamiliar: eyes wide, haunted, trembling. She wanted to scream, to run, to disappear, but her body refused.
For hours, she replayed every smile, every gentle word he had given her. Each one felt poisoned now. Even the food he had offered, the books he had given her, seemed like lies.
She realized the truth: she had been naïve. She had believed humans were capable of pure kindness. She had thought that her innocence could survive in this world.
Her chest ached with betrayal. Her hands shook. The room seemed smaller, colder, the shadows pressing closer. And yet, beneath the fear, a fire began to burn—a spark of defiance.
If this man had thought she would remain helpless, he had underestimated her.
She would not allow herself to be broken quietly.
Lucky made a silent promise to the reflection in the window: if this world could not give her safety, if humans could not be trusted, then she would take her freedom by her own hand, no matter the cost.
And in that moment, innocence slipped away forever.