When you can’t act, you think, and Anna’s mind swam with the recollections of her cruel abuse and the damage to her psyche they had inflicted. She never wanted to be beaten again the way she had been last night. Vincent had been right about letting her scream and plead for mercy. Nothing emphasized the implacable will of her controllers than the futility of her assertions of her humanity. Her supplicative entreaties for surcease of her torture echoed through her mind. She would have offered her soul to have the whipping end. Maybe she did. She couldn’t remember everything that she had said. She did know that she had been stripped of all pride, all self respect. It was devastating to know how easily your self image could be destroyed.
Silence reigned on the fourth floor of Devlin’s mansion
