Page 110 of Wasted Grace

But he’s already pacing, tormented by the idea that he’s the reason I nearly died. The reason Ileft. The reason I’m a ghost of who I used to be.

And maybe... he’s not wrong.

But the urge to notlet himcarry this gnaws at my spine, like barbed wire wrapping tighter and tighter.

“I...” My voice is paper-thin. “I chose it, Advik.Idid. I made the decision.”

But he’s too far gone—spiraling, fractured, drowning in his own guilt.

“You... you were there because of me. You almost died.”

He’s rambling now. Trapped in that loop.

So I scream.“I CHOSE IT!”

That breaks through. His eyes finally lock on mine.

“Iconsentedto the assignment, Advik.”

Each word is a blade dragged across my tongue.

“I consented to be his wife. Hisvessel. His punching bag. I consented to the—” The last word rips out of me like it has claws, “—rape.”

And then—

Something detonates inside me.

I stumble back, breath shallow, limbs numb. The air feels too thick, my skin too tight. The silence after the word is unbearable—like the world stopped and listened.

The memories come surging. Smothering. Gasping. Gnashing.

And just like that—I’mgone.

Advik’s face blurs. His voice is nowhere.

There’sno onehere.

No one left. Justhim.

??????

“Get on the bed,nafasam!”

Karim’s lust-ridden voice said in Dari. He’d already torn the burqa off somewhere between the hall and the bedroom.

I still felt the ghost of his hand clutching my hair painfully tight. I was sure he’d yanked a bunch off my skull.

The moment I landed on the bed—more like thrown—I knew the moment I’d been dreading was here. He hadn’t taken me yet. But tonight he was.

My heart thudded against my throat, my body shivering uncharacteristically. Iknewthis. I hadexpectedthis. But I couldn’t retaliate. Not yet.

I was fully capable of ending his life within seconds, but what would that do?Nothing. I wouldn’t accomplish anything. The mission would fail. So I let him.

I let him manhandle me and tie my hands too tightly to the headboard. Enough to make my skin scrape off. My stomach, resting on the mattress.

My neck craned dreadfully—to look behind me, desperately hoping I couldseebefore he did what he intended to. But I couldn’t. My position wouldn’t let me—blinding me to the looming horror.

He grabbed my hair again, bending my neck at an unnatural, painful angle. Fear paralyzed me. Fear I needed toperform. But found it so easy to.