Crisp white shirt. Fluorescent glare from his watch as he adjusts his tie.
He looks smart. He might be. Whoever he is.
It’s the guy behind him on his knees plugging in a vintage IBM who is the smart one. Like, really smart. If he wasn’t, they wouldn’t call him so much to fix what they can’t.
Did I mention he’s a genius?
He drives a sensible car. He’s nice to his sister. He can look after himself.
But even with poor impulse control and severe ADHD, he worships me.
My name is Shula. Today is my wedding day. Today is the day I die.
What would you do if you were betrothed to a monster? Could you be tied to a man whose terrible secrets are buried with the dead?
What if you were given a way out? Would you take it? Even if it meant you would never truly be free?