The TV screen displayed a live broadcast.
The person in the spotlight was Jodie South.
She sat gracefully in a well-lit room, wearing a sleek dress that accentuated her elegance. Two men stood beside her, one of them holding a whip.
"Do you realize what you've done wrong?" the man demanded.
Jodie didn't answer.
The whip cracked across her back.
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
Three sharp lashes landed in succession. Jodie remained unfazed, not even flinching. Yet to Keira, watching from afar, each strike felt like it had hit her instead, leaving her chest aching as though pierced by invisible thorns.
"Does it hurt?" the man asked.
Jodie actually smiled. "It does."
Her words contradicted her nonchalant expression, as if she found the lashes no more bothersome than a scratch through clothing. The man frowned in annoyance.
The second man spoke. "Will you try running again?"
