I didn’t sleep that night. It was impossible to find a comfortable position. My duvet ended up on the floor at some point, kicked off after tangling around my feet, its silken caress too much for my skin. I couldn’t even toss and turn in my frustration. Every time I tried, the skin of my back pulled and caught fire.
It was a long, long night.
By the time I’d realised the sun had risen, I was stiff and sore and beyond miserable.
It was 7:05 and all was silent. I had been sure that Eloise would still come to fetch me for lessons with Madame Dupont. But she didn’t. She didn’t come to preen or gloat over my torn up back either.
Neither did Ari.
I sat up, groaning deep in my throat. My body, not wanting to be left out, creaked in solemn solidarity. From hip to shoulder, the expanse of
