He gazed at me long enough that I thought he would bleed me to bone with his eyes. The silence was sharp enough to slice skin, and when he finally moved, it was sudden—a ripple of power.
He stood. Adjusted his shirt. Looked at me one last time.
Then he left.
The door closed with a hollow thud and I was alone.
I didn't move for a long while. My chest was heaving and falling in shallow breaths, the sheets clenched in my fists. I'd survived another night. Survived him. And, though weariness was hanging upon my flesh as a chain, there was one thought that flashed through the fog.
Now I was free.
Not free to leave--not yet. But free to start. To plan.
This was the beginning.
---
The following morning I met my shadow.
The guard.
He was large, muscular, and as developed as the columns
