Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I glanced at the maimed jewels again. A question suddenly popped into my head. “When you brought Victor into the library—when Henri was about to take me the first time—why…why did you tattle on us? I always wondered if you were playing a sort of game or…” I narrowed my eyes on a pretty jewel missing an entire hand. “Or was it because you feared he’d cut me into pieces? That Henri would do to me what others have done to you?” My heart flopped out of my chest. “H-How much have you seen, Peter? How much death have you witnessed? Aap kaise jeevit reh sakte ho? Unmein se Koi bhi kaise jeevit reh sakta hai?” (How can you keep surviving? How can any of them?)
He shrugged. “That’s a lot of questions, and I have no answers.” His eyes told me everything he didn’t. “We keep surviving because we don’t have a choice, and you…you almost gave up on me last night.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I just…the drugs made me fight him. H-He told me not to.” I reached for his hand. “I agree I lost myself for a moment, but you don’t understand. There was so much riding on me keeping my wits. That day in the library, he made me promise not to fight. He—”
“That fucking asshole.” Shooting to his feet, he didn’t care he woke ten others or a ruckus of grumbles echoed as jewels slowly sat up. “He made you promise not to fight?” He bent and glowered. “And you agreed? Fuck, if that isn’t one of the most twisted—”
“It’s not. It would make sense if you knew why—”
“I don’t need to know. I know him. I know others like him. I know he enjoys the hunt, the tease, the toying. He told you not to fight because he fed off your trust and obedience. He made you believe he’d never do to you what others have done to us. But wake the fuck up, Ily! He cut you, raped you—”
“I don’t need you to remind me, Paavak.”
“Peter,” he snarled.
I stood too, still cupping my breasts, then giving up. It wasn’t as if everyone hadn’t already seen me or that a dozen other naked jewels scattered by my feet. No one ogled me. No one cared.
Lowering my voice, I whispered in Hindi, “Main ab theek hoon. mujhe lagata hai, Davaaon ka Asar khatam ho gaya hai. aaj sab kuchh behatar hoga...aap dekhenge.” (I’m okay now. The drugs are gone, I think. Everything will be better today…you’ll see.)
Blackness stole over his face. “Everything will be better? How can you say that? Are you deluded?”
I reared back. “No, I’m—”
“Trying to see good in a shitty situation?”
“Yes, I—”
“Don’t.” Bending down, he snatched something from the floor. His linen pants brushed against my legs as he grabbed my hand and shoved my aventurine pendant into my palm. “I need you to stay strong. I’m aware I’m contradicting myself when it comes to you—I tell you to run. To stay. To trust. To give in. I have so much advice, and none of it can truly save you. Perhaps I should let you have your fantasies that he’s different and won’t hurt you. But after last night…how can you even want to believe that?” He hung his head. “I just…I just need to know you’ll be okay. Tell me you see him now. Tell me you’re prepared for how bad he’ll get and that you’re strong enough to bear it, and…I’ll back off, alright?”
“Pete feels responsible for you,” Kirk whispered from the floor. “He feels responsible for all of us.”
I tensed.
My fingers curled automatically around my warm, carved pendant. “You’re not responsible for me, Peter. You can’t take our wellbeing on your shoulders as well as your own suffering.”
“Don’t waste your breath.” Rebecca laughed sadly as she hauled herself upright and wrapped her comforter around her bareness. “We’ve told him that. We tell him every night. Doesn’t stop him, though.”
Glancing at all the jewels slowly climbing to their feet from our strange sleep spiral, Peter muttered, “We all agreed when Yasmin died that we’d look out for one another.”
I flinched. “Did a Master kill her?”
“No.” Peter sighed with a slouch. “She did that herself.”
“She committed suicide?” My eyebrows rose.
“Might as well have.” Citra sniffed sadly.
Peter shot her a look, then locked his stare on mine. “She didn’t tell us how badly she was hurt after a Master beat her. She shut down and went quiet. No one noticed her fading away. She even served her Master again, all while her body kept dying. By the time she woke us the next night and said she didn’t feel well, it was too late. She died of internal bleeding.”
I placed my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do what she did. Don’t shut down—”