I go directly to the room where Bruno keeps the guests and crawl toward the girl Violet. I take her face in my hands to wake her. The light in the room, as always, is dim, almost nonexistent. The aura of terror is complete, just as I remembered it. The table where they tore Alexandra apart remains there, old and untouched. The corner where I was whipped seems even more haunting. Panic begins to take over me, but I master it with small breaths and press my ears to bring myself back to reality.
Elinor also taught me to tame the panic, anxiety, and fear that live inside me, because she knows they never go away.
“No, please...” she begins to beg repeatedly, as if in a breakdown. “No...” She doesn’t see me; she simply doesn’t want to be touched.
“You need to stay quiet. I’m not them,” I whis
