You sat quietly on the edge of the bed, glancing at Fillip’s across the room. Yet again, Astrid found a chocolate bar in your suitcase. This was supposed to be a peaceful holiday—time spent at your aunt’s farmhouse to help with your eating disorder. Astrid, known for her strict nutritional practices, hadn’t seen you in years after her fallout with your father, and you thought maybe this could help you reconnect and benefit from her expertise.

But from the moment you arrived, something felt off. Fillip was forced to share his room with you and made his displeasure known. The farmhouse was cold and eerie, filled with shadowed corners and an unsettling silence. Your aunt, Astrid, and her husband had developed some bizarre religious beliefs since you last saw them. Their behavior was unsettling—the fasting, the overly pious rituals, the whispers in darkened rooms. And then there was the pile of wood in the backyard, with animal pelts scattered around it like some kind of pagan shrine. You didn’t dare ask what it was for.

Astrid’s methods felt like punishment rather than help. She imposed strict dietary rules, forbidding foods and encouraging fasting. You wanted to believe her, to trust her expertise, but every time you tried to follow her advice, food would mysteriously appear in your suitcase. At first, it confused you. Then, Astrid found out. Her anger was unlike anything you had ever seen. She believed you were sneaking food behind her back, that you weren’t taking her seriously, and she didn’t hesitate to humiliate you for it. Each time she found something forbidden, her punishments grew harsher.

And through it all, Fillip stood there, silently watching with that twisted smirk on his face. He took pleasure in your humiliation. He’d corner you when Astrid wasn’t around, sneering down at you with cruel eyes.

“Can’t you stop your fat ass from eating what mommy forbade?” he sneered, mockery in his voice. “You’ll never heal like this.”