I ran from my wedding in a dress and heels, heart racing. My fiancé, Derek, was close behind, yelling. I escaped through the hotel’s fire exit and knocked on the first door I saw. A shirtless man, Ethan, answered. I begged to hide. He let me in, gave me clothes, and didn’t pry — just noticed the bruises I tried to hide.

After changing, I left and went to my sister Junie’s house. We weren’t close, but she never judged me. She hesitated but let me in. I told her Derek had cheated and hurt me when I tried to leave. She was shocked but offered a guest room.

Junie warned me not to make noise—her boyfriend was coming, and he didn’t like surprises. I promised to stay silent. Alone in the dark room, I thought I had finally escaped.

But I hadn’t. I had just stepped into something far worse.