Three days.
It had been three long, painful days since Rose had been taken and locked away by James. The small room he kept her in smelled of damp walls and dust and the only light was whatever slipped in from the thin gap under the door. She was weak, dizzy and so tired her bones felt heavy. Her stomach twisted every few minutes, sometimes from hunger, sometimes from nausea, sometimes from fear she tried hard not to show.
James had brought food to her every day, but Rose had refused every single time. She didn’t trust anything he gave her. She didn’t trust his smile, his voice, or the way he stood too close whenever he spoke.
He entered the room often, not to check on her, but to taunt her.
To remind her she was trapped.
To remind her Lucas wasn’t here.
To remind her of his power.
