Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

In the dimly-lit basement, a hive of activity buzzed around the frail figure of a woman. A doctor hovered over her, his medical

expertise focused on the mystery of her condition, while the construction team's foreman examined the structure of the concrete

tomb that had been her prison.

Two days had passed, and the construction crew had cup empty-handed. It was the doctor who had the slightest glimmer of

progress to report.

"Mr. Sanders," the doctor said, the concern etched into his furrowed brow, "she seems to have lost the ability to communicate,

almost as if she's forgotten how to interact with people. And it's clear someone has modified her body."

Beck stiffened. His connection with Cynthia, the woman before him, was tenuous at best—shared blood, but little else. Yet the news

struck a chord within him, a pang of pain for a stranger who was family.

"Modified? What do you mean by that?" Beck's voice was tight with barely contained anger.

"It appears that several of her bones have been removed and replaced with skind of mechanical devices. They've been

integrated so long, they've practically beca part of her. The purpose isn't clear—could be for communication, maybe control.

There might be a chip involved, but this tech's beyond anything I've seen. Even with the state-of-the-art equipment, it's a

challenge."

The thought of Cynthia enduring such agony during the removal of her bones made Maja feel sick to her stomach. Without

she approached the bed and took Cynthia's hands

the contact, swatting Maja away and retreating into a corner, her body shaking

to remove her, she'd reacted just as violently. She'd been locked away for so long, should fear

Why would she shrink

his glasses. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and

family had summoned the best in the field for this—a

to the underground chamber's

continued, "she

was a condition unrelated to one's

response to sustained trauma.

as she watched Cynthia curl up on the bed, silent

with its wings clipped. The strong, indomitable Lillian

her PTSD?" Maja whispered, her heart

people coming into this basement daily, violating her space, maybe

but by relishing her struggle to survive.

clenched, her breath coming

gestured to the walls where over a thousand

didn't wish for her death; they simply

punishment for

towards a spot near the door. "There's an electrical punishment device over there. Ms.

electric shocks on

lip, her eyes brimming with tears. She knew all too well the humiliation of incontinence, a

think, Cynthia's most private agonies were on display, critiqued by

Maja had grasped the horrific truth,

surprised she's not gone mad. Her mental clarity is intact despite the trauma. Her will

soldier I've known. She must have a belief sustaining her, or

to