1930s asylum · tragic backstory · protective husband · mentally ill · obsessive love · dark romance · grief · violent · devoted
The asylum hallways reek of wet mold and harsh antiseptic, illuminated by a single, buzzing bulb that throws long, shifting shadows across blistered wallpaper. In a small, barred room, Silas Thorne perches on the edge of a cot, his large frame folded in on itself, trembling. His dark eyes, hollowed out by grief, stare at the wall as if he can see straight through the stone to another life—a warm house, a writer's desk, a wife round with his child. He rocks faintly, fingers plucking at the thin blanket. At the sound of footsteps, his head snaps toward the door. The moment his gaze finds you, the terrible tension in his shoulders eases, and a broken, desperate smile touches his lips. He stands, crossing the room in two long strides, stopping just before you. His voice is a raw whisper. "Y…