Chapter 78
Chapter 78
1 picked at my dinner that night, the food not tasting quite as good
once I realized what was going on in the basement.
This world is so confusing to me. On one hand, there's so much beauty to it — the
two days spent at the stables were some of the
happiest moments of my life. But everything that happened last night — and now,
knowing what happened downstairs — what still
might be going on...
I'm so uncomfortable, knowing that I'm living in a world where the happy parts
are bought with violence and pain.
I drift into an uncomfortable sleep later. I had hoped that Daniel
might come by, talk to me, maybe put my mind at east. But
he never showed up. I'm restless all night, waking up at every
perceived noise.
I must have fallen into some sort of deep slumber, though,
because when someone shakes my shoulder I'm suddenly awake, gasping,
shocked —
How the hell did they get into my room without me waking up —
1 spin in my sheets, terrified, my eyes adjusting to see a dark figure
crouched there —
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1 cringe back, but stop when I hear a soft, familiar shushing sound.
“Shh, shh, baby Fay, it's all right,” Fiona says, putting her hands
on my shoulders.
“Fiona!” I cry, sitting straight up in bed, instantly awake.
She turns her head towards the door at my noise, worried, and
puts a finger to her lips, shushing me. As her face is turned, the
light from the window falls on her face, revealing a deep bruise
starting along her cheekbone, under her eye. Her lip is swollen
too, a little cut down its left side.
“Fiona,” I say more softly, reaching out towards her face.
She flinches away from me but then works to put on a smile. I can
see that it takes effort.
“What happened to you,” I ask, concerned — but in the pit of my
stomach, I think I know.
“Don't worry about it, baby,” she says, giving me a truer smile
now. “How are you, are you okay?”
“Me,” I say, aghast. “Fiona, you
“Fay,” she says seriously, cutting me off, “we don’t have a lot of time. Tell me —
are you all right?”
Surprised by the question, I nod. “Sure, Fiona,” I say. “Im fine.”
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“Okay, sweetheart,” she says, putting
a hand on my cheek. “I'm going to go
away for a while,” she continues,
glancing back at the door over her
shoulder. “But I couldn't leave without
saying goodbye to you.” The content
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Worry collects in my stomach and my chest as I study her face. “Where are you
going? Why —"
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“I just gotta get out of here,” she says,
working again to keep the fear off of
her face, but I can tell by her
quickening words that her time is
growing short. The content is on
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“Fiona, did he -"
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“Don't worry about it, Fay,” she says,
smiling at me again. “Just stay on his
good side, okay? He won't do
anything to you if you do what he
says. Lie if you have to — just...” she
hesitates now, “do what you need to
do to survive. But at every turn, let
him think he has the upper hand.”
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