Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

The entire rehab center was thrown into chaos. The staff, all in their matching uniforms, looked like they'd never seen anything like this before. One of them tried to act tough, his voice shaking as he shouted, "Who are you people? Do you have any idea where you are? You think you can just come in here and cause trouble?"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before he hit the floor.

The siblings weren't interested in talking things out.

All the guards wore black uniforms, clearly the ones in charge. The rest—the local workers were dressed in blue. Aside from the patients, those were the only uniforms around.

With the guards out of the way, the two dogs bounded down from a second-floor window, baring their teeth at the strangers left standing.

The villagers working here had never seen anything like this, and it showed. One by one, they dropped to their knees, shaking in terror.

For years, they'd strutted around like they owned the place, never imagining someone could walk in and turn the tables on them.

Now their legs were trembling, silently begging for mercy from the two "devils" standing over them.

Clara scanned the room and quickly spotted the men who'd tried to grab her earlier. They recognized her too. Their faces went pale, and they started begging for their lives.

"Please, let us go! We were only following orders! We swear, it wasn't our choice!"

Clara ignored them. Instead, she called out, "Emily."

Emily scrambled up from the floor. There were streaks of blood on her face, but her eyes were bright and clear.

About fifty people knelt in the room-all locals, all workers at the center. For years, landing a job here was a big deal; anyone who got in looked down on those who didn't.

Emily looked over the crowd, her voice steady. "I only want to know one thing. How did my parents die? And my little brother?"

Someone in the crowd flinched, bowing their head even lower.

A few exchanged anxious glances. It was obvious some of them knew the truth, but nobody wanted to be the one to say it.

Clara let out a cold laugh. "No one wants to talk, huh?"

Her words were like a death sentence. One woman shot her hands into the air, desperate.

"It wasn't us, I swear! The Bolton family's wife-she was beautiful. Those bastards noticed her and lured her here. We tried to warn her, but they said only the ruthless survive in this place. Good people don't last. So... so..."

She trailed off, her face going ghostly white, too scared to say more.

Emily's whole body shook, her eyes rimmed red. "Most of you knew my parents. My dad worked your fields, helped you out whenever you needed it. How could you just stand by and watch? And my brother-he was just a kid! What happened to him?"

The middle-aged woman who'd spoken started trembling even harder. She was infamous for tormenting the patients-most of whom had been wealthy city women before being sent here.

If not for this job, these villagers would never have crossed paths with people like that. Seeing those pampered, delicate women only made their resentment worse. Why did some people get

everything-money, cars, fancy homes-while they had nothing? Most women sent here ended up suffering at their hands.

At first, the villagers were nervous. But as more and more troubled women arrived, their fear faded, and their cruelty grew. What started as bullying turned into outright abuse. Soon, the center became their personal playground-they did whatever they wanted, never caring who these women used to be.

The more unstable the patients were, the more money the staff made.

Evil thrives in the shadows. In a place this corrupt, there were no good people left.

Still shaking, the woman finally told the truth.

"Your dad tried to save your mom.noveldrama

Those bastards weren't finished with her-they abused her right in front of him. He fought back, so they beat him to death. Then your little brother came looking for them. They tossed him in the old well behind the center. I still can't go near that thing-it reeks of death. Your brother was tough. He cried in there for two weeks before he died.”

Emily nearly collapsed. Her little brother-just ten years old left to die among corpses for weeks.

Tears spilled down her face as she grabbed a heavy stick from the ground and started swinging at the crowd in a frenzy.

"You're not people-you're monsters! Every last one of you!"

Clara didn't try to stop her. Instead, she turned to a man who'd been quietly kneeling this whole time. He looked scared, but there was something steadier about him than the others.

She gave him a small, cold smile. “Alright, then. Tell me who really owns this place?"