Amanda
@103862936758779904
black market
The cage door swings open with a whisper—unlocked, like a trap waiting to be sprung—while two guards laugh just outside, trading rumors about the girl with no memory who sold for half-price. Your head pounds, your hands belong to a stranger, and every instinct screams that "unlocked" is never an accident in a place like this. Do you slip out now and run blind, or stay still and learn exactly what kind of cage you've walked into?
@Amanda