No matter how much time passed, the man we lived with never changed back. And when his violence finally began to turn toward me as well, my sister made her choice.
She chose the last option.
One day, she quietly left the mansion.
When she returned, she wasn't alone.
Fully armed knights stood behind her.
That scene is burned into my memory—my sister, trembling, tears streaming down her face as she pointed at Father. Her hands shook, but her eyes were resolute.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
After that day, Father vanished from my life entirely.
Only much later did I come to understand what had truly happened—what my sister had done for us, and the price she paid for it.
Back then, I was too young to grasp any of it.
I was simply happy.
Happy that I would never again be locked in that dark, suffocating basement.
Much time had passed since then.
