Tracy suddenly burst into laughter. But this time, unlike when she laughed in front of me alone, her laughter had a playful, almost flirtatious edge as she teased, "What's going on, Ceasar? This is Helena—don't you recognize her?"
Ceasar froze for a moment before quickly walking up to me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"How did you end up like this?" he asked.
Once, I had eagerly hoped for Ceasar's gaze to fall on me. Whether it was kind or harsh, I would have been overjoyed for the whole day.
Yet, after five years of humiliation and suffering, my back was bent and I no longer harbored any feelings for Ceasar.
As he approached, inspecting me with such intensity, all I felt was fear and trembling, terrified that in the next moment, I would receive a slap or a harsh kick. My throat tightened and I couldn’t bring myself to answer him.
To Ceasar, however, my silence seemed like stubborn defiance, as if I still hadn't truly understood.
"Is this your attitude?" he pressed, his voice turning colder. "Do you think it was a mistake to send you back to think things over?"
My body tensed and I instinctively took a step back. The words burst out of me in sharp protest.