Roxam Connor.

ITALIY.

꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎

My family has slowly been fragmenting — until I no longer recognize the blood that runs through our veins. Living like this isn’t life. It’s torture.

I’m seated in my office, spine straight against the dark leather chair. The windows are covered by thick curtains that barely let in the evening light. The air smells of old wood, wax, and something more subtle — the metallic trace of fear. I know it well. It’s not mine. It’s