Chapter 001
Chapter 001
"Get up, you worthless brat!"
A sharp voice cut through my dreams. The familiar sound of rusty hinges reached my ears, causing my eyes to snap open. The tiny square door above me opened with a creak to let in a slim, dull light into my cell.
"Come here, girl!"
I hated that word. My grandmother, Margaret Kensington, always addressed me using that term. She never referred to me by my name. Just a girl, like I was nothing. I felt as though I was undeserving of such attention.
She bent her body across the opening and looked down at me with the same disdain she always showed.
"Take this food," she ordered.
I rose to my feet and stretched out my hand to grab the plate she pushed through the opening. I snatched the plate quickly while avoiding contact with her hand. Any error or pause would lead to increased punishment.
Once I held the plate in my hands, I moved to the cell's remote corner. I stood with my back against the stone wall while holding the plate steady on my lap.
Margaret didn't leave. She stood there, watching me. She was intently studying every move I made.
I made myself eat a piece of dry bread with stewed chicken. Fear rather than hunger caused my stomach to twist.
Her disdainful tone was evident as she uttered, "This act of feeding you sickens me." "Knowing you're the product of rape."
My throat tightened. The bread I held in my mouth crumbled to dust.
"Why is it you who lived?" she sneered. "My daughter, who was so beautiful, died, but you, who are nothing but a disgrace, continue to live."
I put the bread down. I couldn't eat anymore. My appetite vanished with her cruel words.
"You better finish every bite!" she snapped. "Each bite of food comes from my hard work, and you won't waste it."
Fear gripped me. I seized a piece of chicken and forced it into my mouth before swallowing, though a lump blocked my throat.
Her dark eyes showed clear loathing as Margaret watched me for a few more seconds.
"You're just like your father," she spat. "A thief. You destroyed my daughter's life from your very first breath. Just like he stole her innocence."
She slammed the cell door shut.
I flinched at the sound.
The sound of her heavy footsteps reverberated through the air as she departed, leaving me to face the oppressive silence alone.
Tears blurred my vision. I pulled my arms around my legs while placing my chin on my knees.
She was right.
It was not my destiny to be born.
I was a child of r**e. I was born with the label of a murderer before my first breath ever emerged.
And this cell?
This was where I belonged.
---
I woke up when ice-cold water poured over me instantly.
My body shivered as the water splashed onto my face, which I quickly wiped away. Above me stood Margaret, who held an empty bucket as I looked upward.
"Do you believe I allowed you to remain alive just so you could sleep all day?" she snapped.
I pressed my body against the wall as I tried to become smaller. The wet fabric of my thin dress stuck tightly to my skin.
"Answer me!"
"N-no," I stammered, my teeth chattering.
Margaret thrust a food plate at me. "Eat."
I grabbed the food and ate despite my trembling fingers from the cold.
"Finish quickly," she said. "There's work to be done."
I didn't hesitate. I ate rapidly to avoid the consequences that would come from eating slowly.
Margaret pointed to the latter as soon as I swallowed my last bite.
"Get up here. Now."
I emerged from the cell and placed my bare feet on the solid wooden floor. The air felt different up here. The only time I could leave was to complete chores.
Margaret guided me to the laundry room before she secured the door.
I looked at the enormous heap of soiled laundry with an understanding of what I should do next. I divided the colors and filled the tubs with soapy water without saying anything. My hands moved automatically, scrubbing, wringing, and rinsing.
It was always like this.
Work. Silence. Work.
I didn't know anything else.
---
I had just completed folding all the laundry when I detected footsteps approaching near the door.
The lock clicked, and Margaret stepped in. She checked the surroundings, making sure her keen eyes assessed my task.
She replied with a flat tone as she said he could return to his cell. "Your dinner will come later."
I dashed by her and entered the frigid blackness of my prison cell.
I released a shaky breath when the door clicked shut.
Could I ever witness anything outside these walls?
Would I ever step outside?
During my seventeenth birthday, I asked her a question.
Her answer lived on through the scars etched into my back.
---
Later that evening, I heard voices.
I placed my ear against the wall so I could listen harder.
Outside, someone called out with a deep voice, "Miss Margaret."
My heart pounded. A man?
"Yes, Jameson?" Margaret replied.
"There's a storm coming. It's not safe to stay here. The Alpha has dispatched men to guide you and the others to Ravenshire Manor."
The Alpha? Who was that?
"I'm staying here," Margaret said firmly. "This house is resilient enough to endure any storm."
"Alone?" the man asked, surprise in his voice.
I held my breath.
"I've become accustomed to it," Margaret swiftly replied. "Living alone for so many years."
A chill ran through me.
No one knew I was here.
What would happen if someone found out about me here?
Would they care?
"You should leave soon," Jameson insisted. "The Alpha’s orders are final."
The sound of his steps diminished as he started leaving.
Silence.
The small door above my cell opened with a sudden creak.
The small door above my cell opened, and I sprang to my feet as Margaret descended into the cell with her face distorted by panic.
Her hands clenched into fists. "This storm is ruining everything," she muttered.
She turned to me, her eyes wild.
"I hate you," she whispered.
I pressed myself against the wall.
Her expression shifted, her mind racing. "No, they'll discover it anyway..." she whispered to herself.
What was she talking about?
Then she turned on me.
"I'm taking you upstairs. During the arrival of the Alpha’s men, you must behave as if nothing is wrong. You will not speak unless spoken to."
She grabbed my shirt, pulling me close. "I will personally kill you if you utter a single word. Do you understand?"
Terror surged through me.
I nodded, swallowing hard.
She forced me backward, leading to my head colliding with the wall. I felt the pain spread through my body, yet I bit down hard to keep from screaming.
She said again, "This storm is ruining everything," while her hand shook as it moved through her grey hair.
Then she turned toward the ladder.
"Follow me," she ordered.
I followed her order and left my cell again on that same day.
But this time...
Something felt different.
The pounding of my heart echoed as she opened the door to the laundry room.
She took me out of my cell because of her fear instead of assigning me chores or punishment.
Of what?
The storm?
Or the Alpha?
I entered the dim hallway while breathing shallowly.
Then I saw it.
This is the front door.
Wide.
Unlocked.
Escape became possible for the first time in history.
If I started running away, I had no destination in mind.
