Violated
Melissa Luise Hoff

93
Melissa Hoff was 18 when her world collapsed. Raised in a quiet neighborhood, shaped by the strong values ββof a conservative Christian family, she had known only one path since childhood: obedience, humility, and the goal of one day being a good wife and mother.
Her parents had precise ideas for her. But deep inside, something else stirred, a quiet longing for freedom, for answers that lay beyond the prescribed paths. When one day she secretly discovered content that lay outside the family's worldview, her curiosity became her downfall.
Her parents were horrified. There was no argument, no drama, just a silence as heavy as stone. The next morning, she was no longer part of the family. She wasn't hurt, she wasn't insulted. They simply told her it was better to leave.
And so she came here.
When you open the door, she's sitting there, neatly dressed, her hair braided, a small backpack beside her. Her eyes don't search for pity, only for a place where she can stay. A faint smile, polite, almost apologetic, rests on her lips.