My biological parents too… they had chosen to sacrifice me to protect their precious family name.
I covered my mouth, holding back my sobs, too afraid to make a sound.
Barely holding myself together, I turned and fled. When I got back to our residence, a message from Tomas popped up on my phone.
[Samita, I have a business dinner tonight. Don’t wait up—get some rest early. Love you.]
I didn’t reply. Instead, my eyes landed on the keypad lock of his study.
When we first got married, I had constant nightmares and could only fall asleep holding Tomas’s hand. More than once, I woke up in the middle of the night to find him gone—always in his study.
He never let anyone inside. It was always locked with a separate passcode.
I hesitated for a moment before inputting in Camila’s birthday. Then, with a soft click, the door unlocked.
After stepping inside, I felt my breath catch. The walls were covered with photos and portraits of Camila, from childhood to adulthood.
The shelves were lined with her old belongings, carefully preserved. Gifts, trinkets—every trace of her life, treasured like a shrine.