The crisp afternoon air hit Sophia's face like a slap, but it wasn't enough to drown out the heat of the humiliation radiating from her chest.
She stood just outside the heavy Archive doors, her breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches that burned her throat.
Behind those doors, the "Ice Queen" was being dismantled, and she was loving every second of it.
'He's doing it again,' Sophia thought, her fingernails biting so hard into her palms that she feared she might draw blood. 'He's actually doing it.'
The realization settled in her gut like lead. This was a systematic execution.
First, her mother. Then, her aunt. And now, this bitch Jennifer.
He had turned her into a whimpering, devoted bitch just to ensure Sophia had a front-row seat to the carnage.
"You think you won, don't you?" she whispered, her voice a low, trembling thread in the dark hallway. "You think you finally beat me at my own game."
