Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
It’s a biscuit with jelly and a half slice of ham on the side.
My mouth waters at the sight. I hear my poor belly cry.
I fold the hand towel back over and then cross my arms, making sure it’s hidden beneath my palm.
I jog up the staircase and to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Rushing into the bathroom, I place the towel on the counter and carefully unfold it, as if I’m unveiling some sort of sacred treasure.
The biscuit is so soft that it’s crumbled a bit, but it doesn’t matter.
I will inhale every single buttery crumb.
I dig into it without hesitation. I don’t care if she’s poisoned it. Death already lurks here. At least I’ll go out with some food in my stomach.
It takes me less than a minute to eat it.
When I look up into the mirror, my jaws are puffed, full of bread. I laugh at myself, planting my hands on the edge of the counter and chewing. I savor every bite, shutting my eyes and then swallowing it.
I eat the ham next and then I ball the hand towel up, stuffing it in the trash bin. It was great—and I’m grateful—but not nearly enough.
I walk back out of the bathroom, wiping the back of my arm over my mouth. As I do, there is a knock at the door. I stop in my tracks, staring at the jiggling doorknob.
“It’s just me.” Francesca’s voice picks up from the other side and I rush for the door to unlock it. She surges past me, and I shut the door behind her.
As soon as I turn, she tosses the bottle of water my way. I crack it open and guzzle it down.
As I drink, she watches me.
I release a refreshing sigh and then put my attention on her. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because no one else will.”
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I don’t much,” she assures me, folding her arms. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t understand what you’re going through.”
“He did this to you too?” I ask quietly, and she looks down, focusing on the tips of her heels.
“That…and other things. The other things were bad, yes, but not eating was the worst of them. I know how you feel. I know it’s not fair. Just like you, I was only a few minutes late. He punished me for it. It’s what he does. He punishes people in his own way for what he thinks is disobedience.”
“But he should understand,” I snap, walking forward. “I didn’t have a clock. I didn’t know what time it was at all.”
“There are clocks in the kitchen, the bonus rooms, and in his room…but no one is allowed to go in there. You should have checked the kitchen. That’s what he told me the day he finally let me eat. Four days,” she stated.
“So after tomorrow he’ll let me eat?”
“Maybe. He’s different with everyone.” Her face turns serious. “What did you do with the towel?”
“I threw it away.”
She shakes her head. “Where?”
“The bathroom.” She marches past me to the bathroom and I hear rustling. When she returns she has the towel in hand.
“You have to burn it. The people here are Draco’s eyes and ears while he’s away. They will snitch on you in a heartbeat for a quick, easy reward. Look,” she sighs, “if you don’t get on the same page as everyone else, you will suffer here. I was just like you—wanting to be strong. Trying to tough it out. Trying to stand up for myself and hoping it would gain me some respect, but I was wrong. And stupid. Draco doesn’t give a shit about anyone else having respect but himself.”
“He obviously cares for you,” I murmur. “He lets you eat breakfast with him.”
“And he wanted you to eat with us too. Doesn’t mean that he cares. He’s just being Draco. Confusing and twisted as fuck.”
“So…what are you trying to say? That we have to be his pets in order to make it around here?”
She cocks her head. “No. We just have to do what we need to do to survive.” She walks around me and grips the doorknob. “I know you’re thinking about running away, but don’t be foolish. He tells you that you can run, but Draco isn’t that lenient. He’ll let you run for a little while, but like a cheetah after a gazelle, he will catch you and drag you right back to where you belong…which is here. And he won’t bring you back without getting a little blood on his hands. He won’t trust you out there…and even if you got away, you wouldn’t get far. Wherever we are—it’s a bad city. If they see someone like you running free, they will fuck you like brutes, pass you around for money, and then gut you like a pig when they find you useless. Be smart.” She holds out her wrists, showing me the old scars around them. “Or you’ll wind up just like me.”