Isabella raised her hand. No one noticed.
She cleared her throat—once, sharply. It echoed like a whipcrack across the gathered crowd.
The women quieted. A few looked away, embarrassed. Others wiped their eyes.
"One at a time," Isabella said firmly, her voice crisp and commanding. "You deserve to be heard. So don't drown each other out."
There was a short pause. Then nods.
One by one, they stepped forward. And with every testimony, the village's atmosphere grew heavier. Tighter. Like the walls themselves were listening.
The first to speak properly was a short woman with burn marks on her arm. "I always thought it was normal," she whispered. "Men shouting, grabbing, pulling. But Gerwin—he didn't just yell. He… punished. If you said no, he made you pay for it."
"How did no one see it?" Kian asked, his voice low and cold. "This is a small village."
