Chapter 1

My husband, Declan Morgan, has imprisoned me, and I'm too afraid to resist.

I witnessed Declan murdering someone and burying the body.

The body was my ex-husband.

Are there more bodies in the basement?

Could Declan be a serial killer?

I'm terrified and too scared to find out.

Declan noticed my improved spirits recently and decided to take me out for a meal.

I steadied my trembling legs and cautiously picked up some food with my chopsticks.

"Why aren't you eating the vegetables?"

I kept my head down, obediently reaching for the vegetables with my chopsticks.

Being cut off from the outside world for so long makes me feel disconnected.

Why hasn't anyone come looking for me?

I do have friends; they like me and invite me out every month.

"Nora, is the food not to your taste?"

I shook my head. It's been a long time since I've had food this good; it reminds me of my mother's cooking.

But "mother" feels like a distant memory now.

Declan seemed in good spirits today and didn't rush to take me home after dinner.

He even took me to an amusement park.

Unbelievable.

I saw police officers helping a lost child find their parents.

I told Declan I wanted some octopus balls from the other side.

He left me in a shaded area to wait.

I approached the police officers.

Yes, I wanted to reveal Declan's crimes.

"I'm sorry, my wife has a history of mental illness. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience."

I'm not sick.

But when Declan pulled out my medical records, all my protests became futile.

I was taken back home.

Declan didn't blame me. He just held me gently.

I felt uneasy.

"Why is Nora trembling?"

"Is big brother scary?"

A little.

But how could I tell him that I saw him commit murder and bury the body that night?

I don't want to be the next victim.

Even if the deceased was my relative.

I nuzzled against his shoulder, trying to please him.

A low chuckle spread above me.

"Good girl."

It seems instinctive; subconsciously, I feel that doing this means I won't get hit.

Declan stopped taking me out after that.

This house has a basement, and when he wasn't home, I often lingered by the basement door.

I was both eager and terrified about what might be behind that dark door.

Fortunately, fear outweighed curiosity, and I never went in.

But I didn't realize Declan noticed my every move.

Perhaps Declan was being nicer to me.

I opened the door.

The room was dark.

But on the table by the door, I spotted a phone with a lit screen.

The table was dusty, but not the phone, as if someone had deliberately placed it there.

I took the phone and hid it under the mattress; Declan wouldn't think to look there.