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

the bed and took Cynthia's

violently to the contact, swatting Maja away and

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

she shrink

reactions, adjusted his glasses. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on

for this—a team of top-notch professionals, not

related to the underground chamber's

"she most likely suffers

the doctor explained, was a condition unrelated to

response to sustained trauma.

air as she watched Cynthia curl up on the bed, silent and

its wings clipped. The strong, indomitable Lillian she

whispered, her heart aching at

contact. Imagine people coming into this basement daily, violating her space, maybe

relishing her struggle to

her breath coming

doctor gestured to the walls where over a thousand cameras were embedded, surveillance that

The tormentors behind the screens didn't wish for her death; they simply enjoyed watching

for every

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

electric shocks on

with tears. She knew all

to think, Cynthia's most private agonies were

grasped the horrific truth,

gone mad. Her mental

She must have a belief sustaining her, or perhaps her

to her