Chapter 16
Years later, I asked Celeste what frightened her most during those nights.
I expected the bell.
Wrong.
“The praise.”
I frowned.
“When I lasted four nights, Diana told everyone I was exceptional.”
There it was.
Reward.
The part cruelty needs to survive across generations.
“If she had only hurt me, I would’ve known it was wrong.”
Celeste looked out the window.
“But she made endurance feel like being chosen.”
That stayed with me.
Pain dressed as distinction.
Exhaustion dressed as discipline.
Silence dressed as professionalism.
Control dressed as trust.
Families do not preserve harmful traditions through fear alone.
They preserve them by making survivors proud.
That was what happened to Isolde.
She survived thirty-one hours at nineteen.
Then spent years proving it had meant something by asking others to survive more.
Once I understood that, I hated the system even more.
Not her.
The system.
But systems still require people to choose whether to continue them.
She had.
May you like
Then stopped.
Both truths.
