Page 12 of A Whisper of Cinders

She arches her brow. “From what I have heard, he stepped in between one of the younger kids, defending them, taking a hit or two. It was really kind, actually.”

When my eyes find him for the third time, his attention is focused on his companions, so I observe him in the same way he did before. There still exists goodness here, which shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

I tilt my head up and continue eating. “Well, there is nothing going on between us.

“Mhm,” Ami hums, clearly unconvinced. “if you say so.”

She thankfully manages to talk about anything else but Noah, and I can breathe a little easier again. I avoid his gaze at all costs, even though I feel his eyes linger on me every now and then. But trying to figure out what all of this is, makes my heart stumble.

We finish our meals and are about to take the turn to the recreative area when an ice-cold voice stops me. “Maily. Here.”

You see, it’s not only his tone, it’s the way he speaks to me. And I know if I don’t listen, it will only make things worse. Ami hesitates, not wanting to leave me alone with Dom, but knowing it will not do me any good if she stays. “Go,” I whisper silently. “Please.”

She doesn’t answer or even acknowledge that she heard me. But eventually she moves one foot in front of the other and leaves me alone, with Dom.

“Come.”

All the joy I felt minutes ago evaporates instantly.

CHAPTER FIVE

You should’ve seen this coming. I told you physical contact is not allowed. Only by me.

Dom’s words echo inside my head like a broken record player. He did warn me. He didn’t tell me that contact by accident counts as well. And I unfortunately had to find that out the hard way.

I guess I’m lucky in some way, he only gave me five lashes.

Five lashes for the five seconds he was holding you.

The only positive side of how I look is that he doesn’t find me attractive, meaning I am no help in satisfying his other urges. But either way I am his property, if only for the sole purpose of being his personal punching bag.

Miss Sophia’s voice curls around my ears as I sit in her office, but the pain that currently has me in its stronghold blocks out my capacity to interpret her words.

The wounds are sore and my muscles protest with every move I make, finding a comfortable sitting position is impossible. The skin didn’t break, which is a mercy, but the bruises are everywhere.

“We shall pick up where we left off last time.”

The vanilla office with its cream and white walls and furniture comes back into focus, her words penetrate my thoughts as she is apparently done with her monologue. That means it’s up to me to do the talking. Digging through my brain in the hope that something might rise to the surface is a tiresome process and one with barely any result.

Don’t get me wrong, I want to recover my memories, desperately even. But every time I feel like something is within reach, it slips through my fingers and I am left with a bone deep tiredness. A headache where I’m unable to function with and a confused mind that tries to figure out what is missing.

Still, I nod.

Miss Sophia offers a kind smile and pulls a small stack of photographs from the leather folder beside her. “Same exercise as before,” she says as she holds up the images to her chest, arranging them. “I’ll show you a series of images and you say the first thing that comes to mind, let your intuition speak.”

She shows me the first image. A yellow flower in a field, a sunflower I know now.

“Joy.”

She nods and places it aside. The next one is a broken teacup on stone tiles. “Loss.”

A cracked mirror. “Broken.”

She studies me briefly before moving onto the next. An open hearth where a fire casts the room in shadows, orange embers flickering around it.

My heart stops and I look at her, unsure of what to say or think.

“What do you see, Maily? What feeling does it give you.”