Pass 2: “The Man Who Bought Me… Knew Who I Really Was”
And just before we stepped outside, he paused and whispered, “I’m sorry,” and those two words didn’t sound like guilt from a buyer, they sounded like regret from someone who had arrived too late, and that was what made my heart beat faster, not with fear this time, but with confusion that refused to settle.
The car waiting outside was black, polished, nothing like the broken life I had just left behind, and when he opened the door for me, I hesitated again, my body refusing to accept that this was now my reality, but something in his eyes—still heavy, still wet—pushed me forward. I stepped in. The door closed. And just like that… everything I knew disappeared behind me.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. The road stretched ahead, quiet, endless, while my thoughts screamed inside my head. I expected him to say something, anything that would confirm my worst fears, but instead, he sat there, hands clenched, like he was the one struggling to breathe.
“Why did you buy me?” I finally asked, my voice barely holding together.
He didn’t answer immediately.
That silence again.
Heavy. Familiar.
Then he said something that made my entire body go cold.
“I didn’t buy you,” he said quietly. “I brought you back.”
My breath stopped.
“What… does that mean?”
He turned to me slowly, and this time, there was no hiding anything in his eyes.
“Your name is Amara,” he said. “And you were never supposed to be in that house.”
The world tilted.
“How do you know my name?”
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