"Let me go!!! Please, I'm begging you!!!" Ceres's voice cracked as she screamed at the top of her lungs, thrashing violently against the cold marble floor. Her wrists were chained, thick, glowing shackles biting into her skin, forged from an Indestructible Chain, the cruel ability of one of her brother's sworn knights.
She twisted and struggled, her nails scraping against the floor as she called for help again and again. But no one came. No one ever did.
The knights laughed at her misery, their mocking voices bouncing off the stone walls like demons feasting on her suffering.
"Celine! Please! Make them stop!" Ceres sobbed, her tear-filled eyes locking onto her younger sister, who stood silently nearby, untouched, unmoved.
But Celine said nothing. She merely watched, expressionless, detached, as one of the knights grabbed the torn hem of Ceres's ballgown and ripped it further with brutal force.
"What a disgusting figure you have, Princess," the knight sneered, chuckling darkly, mocking her not just with words, but with the venom behind them.
"No!!! Please! No!!!" Ceres screamed until her voice was hoarse, her desperation drowning in the sound of cruel laughter.
"Vee?! Honey, wake up!" Cielo's voice trembled with panic as she shook her daughter awake. The middle-aged woman looked down at Evadne, drenched in sweat, screaming, thrashing on the bed.
"Stop! Please stop!!!" Evadne cried out again, her eyes shut tight, trapped in her nightmare, deaf to her mother's frantic pleas.
"Romos!" Cielo called out, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes.
Romos rushed in, alarm etched into his face. He tore open the medicine cabinet, grabbing the emergency tranquilizer their psychiatrist had prescribed for nights like this.
"Hold her, darling!" Romos ordered. Cielo quickly moved behind her daughter, embracing her tightly while Romos prepared the syringe.
A quick prick to her arm.
A shuddering breath.
Then, slowly, Evadne's wild thrashing ceased. Her limbs went limp, her chest rising and falling in a steadier rhythm. But Cielo didn't let go. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around her daughter, while Romos knelt beside them, still holding Evadne's trembling hands.
"It's the fifth night in a row," Cielo whispered, her voice raw with fear. "I can't… I can't keep watching her like this, Romos."
She reached out with trembling fingers to wipe away the tears on Evadne's cheeks, her own tears slipping down her face unnoticed.
"We'll see Dr. Lacroix tomorrow," Romos said, his tone firm, trying to stay strong for both of them.
"She was doing so well," Cielo murmured, staring at her daughter's now-peaceful face. "Fourteen years without a breakdown… and now this. I don't understand what triggered it. Why are the nightmares back?"
Evadne had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of six. Even as a child, she had difficulty distinguishing reality from imagination. Her condition had a deep impact on her life, especially her ability to interact with others.
Afraid that she'd become the subject of gossip and ridicule in New York's high society, Romos and Cielo made the decision to leave the city and start anew in the countryside of Illyon, France.
There, they found peace. No one knew them. The air was fresher. The life, simpler.
With proper medication and constant support, Evadne's condition stabilized. She flourished. The Monteverdes, despite their immense wealth, embraced a quieter life, far from New York's social whirlpools. Everything Evadne needed, they provided. And for a time, she was content.
They traveled often, spoiled her as much as they could, and watched her grow into a bright, joyful girl.
The three of them were happy.
Until after her eighteenth birthday.
After a night out celebrating with friends, her first time drinking legally, Evadne came home smiling.
And then the nightmares started.
They weren't just ordinary dreams anymore, they were vivid, tormenting visions that made her scream, beg, and plead in her sleep. It was as if someone was torturing her, dragging her through a nightmare she couldn't escape. And no matter how many times her parents tried to wake her, Evadne remained trapped, eyes shut, body shaking, voice hoarse from crying out.
When morning came, she was a shell of herself, drained, broken, and utterly lost.
And each night, the darkness seemed to reach deeper.
Cielo and Romos could do nothing but sit by her bedside and watch helplessly.
From the once bright and cheerful girl they raised, Evadne had grown quiet and withdrawn. Her usual sunny personality had dulled. She stopped returning phone calls. She refused invitations to go out. Even the cheerful persistence of her closest friends couldn't draw her out of her shell.
They just wanted their daughter back.
Evadne wasn't just any child, she was their miracle. Not only because Cielo gave birth to her in her forties after believing she'd never have another child again, but because Evadne came to them at the darkest point in their lives.
At a time when their world had shattered.
Their daughter, Ceres, had died in a tragic accident. And just when they thought grief would swallow them whole, barely a month after burying their child, Cielo learned she was two months pregnant.
It was Evadne, still just a heartbeat in the womb, who pulled them out of the grave they had dug in their sorrow. She gave them something to live for. Something to hold on to.
That's why they would do everything, spend every cent, exhaust every option, just to see their little girl smile again. Just to hear that infectious laugh that once filled their home with light.
"Stay here with her, darling," Romos said gently. "Tomorrow morning, we'll go straight to the hospital."
Cielo nodded. Even if he hadn't said it, she had no intention of leaving Evadne's side. Not now. Not for a second.
Romos helped her readjust Evadne's blanket and tucked her in properly before kissing his wife on the forehead and leaving the room to prepare their things.
"I'm here, honey. Daddy and Mommy will always be here for you. We love you so, so much," Cielo whispered softly to her daughter, repeating the words like a prayer, hoping they would seep into Evadne's dreams and calm her storm.
As expected, the following morning, Evadne was barely able to lift her head. She looked pale, her eyes hollow and her movements sluggish.
"Do we really have to go now?" she asked for the second time, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hon, don't be stubborn," Cielo said, her voice gentle but firm. "We can't keep putting this off. These nightmares are happening every night now, and they're clearly draining you. School is starting soon, do you really want to walk into class looking like a ghost?"
Her tone was light, even teasing, but her eyes betrayed her worry. They were filled with concern, the kind that only a mother who has watched her child suffer could carry.
Evadne sighed heavily and gave up the argument. Wordlessly, she stood and walked toward their parked car, her body moving on autopilot.
Because the truth was, she didn't know how to tell them.
It wasn't just nightmares plaguing her.
Something had changed in her after her eighteenth birthday.
She didn't know how or why. All she remembered was coming home tipsy but happy after celebrating with friends.
And the next morning… everything was different.
She started hearing voices.
Not out loud, but inside her head.
It wasn't madness. It wasn't hallucination.
It was thoughts.
The thoughts of everyone around her, pouring into her mind like a thousand whispers all at once. It was deafening, disorienting, and suffocating.
And it never stopped.
That was why she always felt exhausted.
That was why she stopped going out.
It was the reason she avoided her friends.
Because now she knew what they really thought of her.
The friends she once treated like sisters… secretly mocked her. Gossiped about her. Envied her.
To her, they were family.
But to them?
She was a burden. A spoiled heiress. A girl they only kept close for convenience.
And Evadne couldn't bear it.
Not the voices.
Not the truth.
Not the loneliness that came with realizing she had never been truly loved by the people she once called friends.
The moment they arrived at Florence Private Hospital, a nurse promptly led them down the pristine corridors toward Dr. Lacroix's clinic.
Once inside, Evadne was left alone in the office with the psychiatrist.
"Your parents said you've been experiencing nightmares that leave you drained every morning, Vee," Dr. Jean Lacroix said gently, calling her by the nickname he'd used since she was a child.
Evadne nodded without speaking, her hands resting stiffly on her lap as she sat on the edge of the leather sofa.
"Do you remember what happens in your dreams?" he asked.
She nodded again, slower this time.
"Can you tell me about them?" His voice was calm and professional, but the dissonance between his tone and the thoughts Evadne heard in her mind was jarring.
'She looks pale. Detached. Like she's falling apart from the inside out…'
They were alone in the office, but Evadne could still hear everything. Not just Dr. Lacroix's thoughts, but the chaotic jumble of voices from outside the room, her parents, filled with worry… the nurses exchanging casual gossip… even a child crying softly in a waiting room down the hall.
The hospital was too loud.
Always too loud.
But she couldn't tell him that. No one could know.
So, she took a breath, and lied with the truth she could reveal.
"I was being raped," Evadne said flatly, her voice hollow and distant.
Dr. Lacroix's expression didn't change. But Evadne heard his thoughts shift.
'Jesus Christ…
Calm down. Keep your face neutral.
This is worse than what Cielo described.'
"I was being held down," she continued, staring blankly at a spot on the floor. "There were six of them. They took turns. One after the other. They laughed while I screamed, while I begged them to stop."
Her voice cracked slightly, but she kept speaking.
"I called out to my younger brother and sister… but they didn't help me. They just stood there. Watching. Because they were the ones who ordered it."
Silence stretched between them like a chasm.
Still, Evadne kept going. Her voice never wavered, but her fingers dug into the hem of her dress as if trying to anchor herself.
"I dream of my parents punishing me. Scolding me for hurting my siblings… even though it was them who hurt me first."
Her eyes flickered briefly to Dr. Lacroix before dropping again.
"People would mock me. They'd say I was fat. Ugly. Useless."
She inhaled sharply, the memories, or whatever they were, crawling over her skin like fire.
"And every night… a man would come into my room. Different men. I never saw their faces. But they would all do the same thing."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"They'd touch me. Use me. Even though they hated me… even though they said I disgusted them."
Dr. Lacroix's professional composure barely held.
Inside, his mind was a storm of clinical alarms and quiet horror.
But on the surface, he remained calm. Pen poised, eyes steady, letting her speak without interruption.
Evadne finally stopped. Her voice, her hands, her entire body fell still.
There was nothing left to say.