Unbroken

The limousine's plush interior mocked my emotional turmoil. Zephyr, triumphant after her "performance review," hummed along to a classical piece, the melody a cruel counterpoint to the discord within me. Each mile that stretched between the Spark Library and the opulent mansion felt like a descent into a darker reality.

Back in my room, the gilded cage felt heavier than ever. The city lights, usually a source of solace, now seemed to mock my despair. The melody within me, once a hopeful counterpoint, had devolved into a mournful lament. I wasn't planning, wasn't strategizing. The weight of betrayal, the echo of shattered trust, had numbed me into a state of melancholic paralysis.

Memories of Charlotte's tear-filled eyes, the collective disbelief of my colleagues – they haunted me like ghosts, accusing fingers pointing at the monster I had become. Or was I just a pawn, manipulated by a master puppeteer? The line between victim and accomplice blurred, leaving me adrift in a sea of self-
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