Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“He said he loved me.”
I squeezed her fingers gently.
“I know.”
“He called me his beautiful girl.”
Her voice broke.
“Nobody had called me beautiful in years.”
I held her while she cried.
And I realized how carefully Alex had chosen his words.
He hadn't needed to threaten her at first.
He'd offered the exact kind of affection she desperately missed.
Then, once she'd begun trusting him, he'd slowly taken control.
First he asked to borrow her bank card for groceries.
Then he offered to handle bills.
Then he asked for permission to collect her mail.
Eventually, he persuaded her to sign documents she barely understood.
“When I realized money was disappearing, I confronted him,” she whispered.
“What did he say?”
“He laughed.”
Her hands trembled.
“He told me nobody would believe that a woman my age had been dating someone as young as him.”
