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He looked at the broken, beaten body of his daughter and actually said to me, "You should've thanked me for this. He would've taken care of you.”

As if he knew anything about taking care of me.

"He won't take you now," he said, but he never mentioned what happened to me when he arranged my marriage to Rafail. I decided then that I would not be used as their property. I wouldn't be taken.

And a part of me, even now, feels that.

I fall back asleep, almost instantly back in the room at my father’s house. I want to wake up again. I know this isn’t real—I know this is the past, and I have to wake up.

I thrash in the sheets. They're tangled around my legs, and the pain is too much. I'm still half in the dream, still clutched in his grip, the pain of that night etched in my memory as if carved into stone.

I've never felt so helpless in my life, and I told myself then it was the last time.

No one can hurt you if they can't find you.

There's a wetness between my legs. Strong arms wrap around me.

I scream, thrashing, biting at air.

"Anissa, Jesus, it's me."

I'm pinned to the bed, and Matvei's eyes are above mine, boring into me with concern.

"You're dreaming. You're just dreaming. Are you okay?"

I blink, and his face is in front of me. But I can still see my abuser. I can still hear his oily voice, see the yellow of his eyes, and still feel his grip on my arms as he held me and assaulted me.

It flashes in my mind like a bad movie.

I close my eyes, and this time, the memories don't go away like I've trained them to.

I clear my throat.

I try to speak, but I'm in actual pain. It takes a minute to realize it's not just from the memory.

I shake my head.

"I'm okay," I rasp.

But I'm not.

I'm fucking not.

I want him to toss me in that cage, lock me in, and throw away the key.

Because when I'm behind those metal bars,no one can get me.

And I can't run anymore.

The pain radiates across my back and spasms in my abdomen. It feels as if someone's wrapped a vise around it and is pulling.

I try to curl my legs up to my chest, but Matvei is on me.

"Get off," I croak.

Reluctantly, he slides off me as if he somehow wanted to make sure I stayed.

Maybe he did.