Wendy survived the mountain. Now she has to find out what she survived for.

The place that took her in is quiet. Clean. The hands that bandage her feet are gentle. The voices in the chapel are kind. After a lifetime of rooms where kindness was always a price tag, this should feel like sanctuary.

It does not.

Wendy has been here before, in other rooms, under other rules. She knows what it costs to mistake a cage for a home.

Is this a place that heals or a place that holds? Are the people promising to help her, holding her back from escape or something much darker?

She has earned an answer.

She is not leaving without it.