One year ago, after the death of her only remaining relative—her mother—she was taken in by an uncle who had been estranged from the family for years. He was jobless, but he had inherited a house and some property from his parents. At first, she had no choice but to rely on him. Every night was a source of fear, but she had a strange, exciting feeling that made her sweat and even run to the bathroom. She was no longer afraid.
"Come here," he said. "You're starting to understand what I like."
"You're smart," she replied, "just like an older sister."
Their relationship was intense, filled with tension and seduction. She was not just his niece—she was a force of will, a sister who had endured the same suffering, and now, she was ready to take control. She had promised him that she would stay for only one more year, just until she graduated. After that, she would earn money and leave, so they could live together. She had made that promise the day he had taken them both, the day he had first violated them.
Now, they were no longer just uncle and niece. They were partners, bound by pain and pleasure. She had endured the loneliness of being an orphan, and now, she had found her way to freedom.
She would not be the only one to leave. He would come with her, just as she had promised.
They were no longer just two people bound by blood and suffering. They were together, stronger than ever, ready to face the future—no matter what came next.
