The moment the lock clicked into place, I felt my heart sink. “You’ll learn respect one way or another,” my step-mom sneered, standing in the hallway like a prison warden. I was fourteen, and she was determined to teach me a lesson for something as trivial as leaving my clothes on the floor. But in that instant, I vowed I’d find a way out of this nightmare. Little did I know, karma had its own plans in store.
I paced up and down my room, the thin walls echoing my frustration. The lock was a metaphorical…