Kaye
The day had started off like any other over the past month. She had woken up still chained to her bed, still dressed in the same skimpy negligee, still hearing the same whimpering and grunting coming from the other rooms.
Getting up, she relieved herself in the bucket positioned at the foot of the bed and then washed her hands in the sink, before heading to the doorway to see if breakfast had been dropped off yet. She found a tray with a bowl of gruel and a glass of murky water. Sitting down on the cold floor, she ate the unappetising meal and pushed the tray towards the doorway to await collection.
“I can see why the president kept you upstairs for so long,” a man commented as he left the room opposite hers, rearranging his clothing as he went. Seeing Kaye sitting on the floor,
