The next morning comes too soon, the faint light of dawn filtering through the barred windows. I sit up, feeling the weight of another day pressing down on me. There’s no escape from this, no way out. The only thing I can do is survive.
I get dressed quickly, slipping into the maid uniform Nadine provided. As I head to the kitchen, I steel myself for another day of servitude, trying to push aside the fear and anxiety that have become my constant companions. When I walk in, Nadine is already there.
“Good morning, Cinderella,” she says with a warm smile.
“Good morning, Nadine,” I reply, trying to match her smile, but it feels hollow.
She looks at me, studying my face. “Cinderella, can you cook?”
I nod.
“Okay, I want you to make breakfast—anything you want—and I will assist you.”
I’m t
