They believed fear would keep me powerless. They believed nobody would believe my story.
But they were wrong. One day, I discovered an old phone hidden in a kitchen drawer.
The screen was damaged. The service was disconnected. But the voice recorder still worked.
That night, I turned it on. I started recording everything. Every threat.
Every insult. Every conversation they thought nobody would hear. The recordings became the only proof of what happened inside that house.
