Two days passed and they felt longer than they should have.
I stayed in my room most of the time, walking in slow circles, sitting by the window, sometimes stepping out into the garden just to breathe among the tulips before coming back inside again, because there was nowhere else I was allowed to go.
I was not allowed to do chores or to help in the kitchen or even lift a finger for anything, it felt so strange.
I was used to always moving, always working, always being yelled at, bruised, ordered around, and now my body did not know what to do with the quiet or the stillness.
I was not complaining, but it felt wrong. I needed to do something or I’d die from quietness. So I picked up the phone Dexter had given me and stared at it for a moment before finally pressing his name.
He arrive
