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

approached the bed and

reacted violently to the contact, swatting Maja away and retreating into

last tlan's men tried to remove her, she'd reacted just as violently.

she

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

in the field for

related to the underground

"she

condition unrelated

response to sustained trauma.

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

with its wings clipped. The strong, indomitable Lillian she once knew seemed

Maja whispered, her

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

struggle to survive. The fear of touch

breath coming in shaky

doctor gestured to the walls where over a thousand cameras

the screens didn't wish for her death; they simply

for

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

severe electric shocks on a

bit her lip, her eyes brimming with tears. She knew all too well the

private agonies

had grasped the horrific

gone mad. Her mental clarity is intact despite the trauma. Her

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

directly to her deepest