“He put his hands on me. . . . He forced his mouth on mine and pinned me to the desk. He was bigger. Heavier. And I thought, I am not special, or chosen. That was the shield I’d used against the truth for years—the certainty that I was meant for something more. But that moment, with him over me, that’s when I understood what that world was. There would always be a man deciding my fate, whether it was my father, an archon, or a husband.”
I. HATE. MEN.
