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

violently to the contact, swatting Maja away and

she'd reacted just as violently. She'd been

Why would she shrink

website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of

for this—a team of top-notch professionals,

to the underground chamber's

continued, "she most likely suffers

Stress Disorder, the doctor explained, was a condition unrelated

response to sustained trauma.

away, hovered in the air as she watched Cynthia curl up on the bed, silent and fragile,

The strong, indomitable Lillian she once knew seemed so distant

Maja whispered, her heart aching at

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

by relishing her struggle to survive.

clenched, her breath coming in

gestured to the walls where over a thousand

expressions. The tormentors behind the screens didn't wish for her

punishment for every

electrical punishment device over there. Ms. Pennyfeather, are you

electric shocks

brimming with tears. She knew all too well the humiliation of incontinence, a common result of

private agonies were on display, critiqued by unseen

realizing Maja had grasped

gone mad. Her mental clarity is intact despite the

than any soldier I've known. She must have a belief

directly to her