For eighteen years, I’ve been weighed down by an emptiness that consumes me. One that cannot be filled with jewels or fancy dresses, nor with the warm touch of another. I’ve grown, but I don’t feel like I’ve lived a single day. I’m constantly surrounded by people, and yet I feel completely alone. With each day that passes, my yearning to escape the confines of my gilded prison grows, but I’m too afraid to brave the outside world.
Until I learn of my brothers.
My twelve brothers.
My flesh and blood, who were sentenced to death on the day I was born.
The emptiness I’ve felt is nothing compared to the hardship they’ve endured because of their forced absence. I need to know them; to care for them; to love them. When I find them, I want nothing more than to begin our new life together.
I didn’t anticipate their hatred toward me.
I was naïve to think they wouldn’t resent me.
I certainly never expected their punishing touch to permeate my body and soul…
…and leave me begging for more.