Sophia was lying weakly on the bed—her face unwashed, her hair unkempt, dressed in a nightgown. Her exposed arms and legs were covered in bruises, a mix of blue and purple.

"What happened?!" I rushed over and held her in my arms while pulling out my phone to call the police.

At the same time, the security guards arrived, but the woman downstairs blocked their way.

At that moment, I was furious beyond words. Just one look at Sophia's condition, and I ...