He keeps staring at me, devouring me with his eyes, but nobody sees it—or they choose not to notice. In my husband’s house, I’m not a bride, I’m an unwanted dependent forced on me by the elders. My husband hasn’t spent a single night under the same roof with me—he preferred to leave for the capital. Far from me and far from the forced marriage arranged in the name of maintaining peace between families that had been exterminating each other for three generations because of a blood feud. And only he—my husband’s uncle—not just tolerates me, he is insanely eager for my company. His intentions are corrupt, his thoughts filthy. He has almost stopped resisting his sin, and I’m terrified of him. Because one look from him says more than a thousand words.