Replaced By A Fake: The True Luna's Revenge

The sound of my bone snapping echoed through the bathroom like a gunshot.

Austen didn't even blink as he broke my hand for the ninety-sixth time.

His reason? I was in the shower and missed a call from Joyce, the woman he believes saved his life fifteen years ago.

But the nightmare didn't end there. When Joyce cut her own arm with glass and framed me for poisoning her, Austen didn't check the evidence.

He dragged me to the damp basement and picked up a mechanical drill coated in pure silver.

"This hand threw the vase," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm.