The heavy mahogany door remained closed for three days.

Or were there four?

Time inside the master bedroom did not pass in hours.

It dripped like poison from the sterile white bottle that rested on my bedside table.

Every morning, at exactly eight o'clock, the heavy electronic lock would unlock with a loud mechanical click and Sasha would enter the room wearing an impeccable designer dress and carrying a silver tray.

She was my jailer disguised as a devout sister.

"Good morning, Kianna," Sasha