The Locked Room
Language: en
My husband's secretary was locked in a car with the windows up for half an hour, and in a fit of rage, he locked me in the storage room. I knelt on the ground, tightly gripping the hem of his shirt, admitting to a mistake I didn't commit. He impatiently pried my fingers away, stepped on them hard, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "Who do you think you are, daring to hurt Chloe?" Suffering from severe claustrophobia, I curled up in the dark, cramped space, gasping for air. My palms were scratched bloody by my own fingernails, yet I still couldn't resist the suffocating feeling of…