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enter unless you allow me to,” he said quietly through the door. “But please tell me if you’re hurt.”

For several moments, there was no answer.

Then the lock turned.

Rosalie opened the door just enough to let him see her.

The tiny key had pierced the fabric of her corset, leaving a cut against her skin. Yet when Manuel saw the marks on her exposed back, he stopped breathing for a moment.

The injury was only a small part of what he saw.

Faded bruises and scars circled her wrists. Old marks traced her ankles. Long, pale lines crossed her back, revealing years of suffering she had hidden beneath her clothes.