Anna POV
A soft sound scratched at the bedroom door on the evening of day three. I tensed on the bed, ribs screaming with the movement. Not Dorian’s heavy steps. These were lighter, hesitant.
A knock came, barely there. Then her voice slipped through, low and shaky. “Anna. Are you awake?”
I pushed myself up slowly, one hand pressing my bruised side. “Natalie? What are you doing here?”
The lock turned. She eased the door open just enough to slide inside with a small tray, then shut it fast behind her. No Maris. She pressed her back against the wood for a second, just a second, like she needed to be sure it had closed completely. Her hands trembled as she set the soup and water on the table.
“I brought dinner myself,” Natalie whispered, glancing back at the door. “Maris is downstairs de
