Chapter 8: The Midnight Sessions
The day blurred together, each one more humiliating than the last. I no longer flinched when Mira barked an order, or when Patrick's cruelty lingered on me like a brand.
I have learned to keep my head lowered, to wheel myself to the corner like a shadow, to wait until the room emptied so I can breathe again.
But nothing compared to the afternoon Mira invited her friends over to the house.
I was ordered to serve them tea and pastries, my arms aching as I maneuvered the tray across the floor, the women whispering behind painted nails and glassy eyes. Mira made no attempt to hide her cruelty.
“Careful Jenny”, she said in a sing-song voice, as my hand shook while pouring the tea. “We wouldn't want you making a mess in front of the guests”.
Laughter rippl
