I stood in the dimly lit basement, watching Natalie's terrified face. Her mascara had run in black trails down her cheeks, her perfectly styled hair now a tangled mess. She was secured to a chair, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. The fear in her eyes was primal, instinctive—the kind that strips away pretense and reveals the true person beneath.
"Please, Aurelia," she whimpered. "I've told you everything. I confessed. Just let me go."
I didn't respond immediately. Instead, I moved to a table where I'd placed a large covered cage. The soft rustling sounds coming from inside made Natalie's breath hitch.
"You know," I said conversationally, "I spent five years watching you torture my daughter. Five years of helplessly standing by while you poisoned Julian against us both."
"I'll make it right," she pleaded. "I'll tell Julian everything. I'll leave the pack!"
