Joan’s P.O.V
I’ve been staring at the same patch of ceiling for what feels like hours, watching the way the cracks spider out from the beams like they’re trying to escape, just like i’ve wanted to. The room they gave me isn’t a cell, not technically. It’s warm, there’s light during the day. But it’s still a cage. A quiet, padded kind of prison wrapped in the illusion of comfort. No chains, no bars. Just walls thick enough to keep the sound of the rest of the house out.
Rosie saved me. She lied for me.
And every time i feel the blood hunger claw up my throat like it does now, i remember that i owe her more than i can ever repay.
I still don’t know why she did it. Not really. When she told me the truth by the gate that night, i believed her when she said she didn’t know either. But that’
