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A grey-headed man with a hair-net on and crow’s feet pinching weary brown eyes waved us away with a wooden spoon dripping with red sauce. “They’re all out back. Hurry now. Oh, and take these with you. You’re gonna need it.” Snapping his fingers at a stout elderly woman beside him, she nodded and grabbed a basket covered in a blue-and-white chequered tea-towel.

Darting around the mayhem in the kitchen and bringing with her a whiff of delicious chocolate, she passed me the basket. “Ensure every jewel has one. It will give you energy for the long day ahead.” Cupping Rachel’s chin, she sighed sadly. “Did that tonic help ease any of your pains, my dear?”

Rachel patted her hand and nodded. “It did. Thanks, May. Who knew dandelion roots and nettle could ease such things.”

“My grandmama taught me.” May gave her another unhappy look, her mousy hair lank from the kitchen’s humidity. “I can try to make you a concoction to help you lose the child…” She shrugged. “I can’t promise it will work, but…”

Rachel winced and cupped her belly. “Pretty sure I’ll lose it after how many times that bastard kicked my stomach this morning.” She flicked me a look. “If I survive today, then yes, I’ll take you up on the offer. Dr Belford also said she’ll help induce my losing it—as long as Victor doesn’t insist he wants it now. Fuck.” She shuddered. “The thought of having a baby in here, to him?” Fierce tears filmed her vibrant blue eyes. “I can’t. I literally can’t.”

“But if you raised them right…they might inherit it all and let us go.”

Rachel laughed under her breath. “You’re basing your freedom on a fantasy that wouldn’t come true for at least twenty years…if at all.” She shot me another look and dove her hand beneath the tea-towel of the basket I held.

Pulling out a thick muesli slice full of oats, fruits, treacle, and nuts, she nibbled on the end. “Besides, this is his kid we’re talking about. It’ll be raised to be even worse than its father. So no.” She swallowed hard. “Victor will destroy it. He’ll turn it into a creature not fit for this earth.” Her shoulders braced. “I’d rather die with innocence in my belly than give birth to evil.”

May rolled her shoulders and nodded. “Well, we’re here if you need anything.” Arching her chin at the open doorway leading outside, she added, “Keep an eye on Peter, will you, dear? He’s not doing too well.”

“Crap, is he still high?” Rachel lowered her voice, glancing at the cameras blinking red in the corner of the curved ceiling.

I stiffened. “C-Can they hear us?”

May gave me half a smile. “They say they can, but after years of working down here, I can tell you they don’t hear shit of what we talk about. I think the extraction fans, constant boiling, and other ambient noise acts like a shield.”

Interesting…

“And yes, he is.” May answered Rachel. “I know Dr Belford trusts you guys not to overindulge, and usually he’s so careful not to incapacitate himself, knowing the consequences of not obeying, but…” She dabbed at a sudden tear in the corner of her eye. “I’m scared he doesn’t really care anymore.”

Rachel glanced at me, her dark hair making her skin milky with horror. “Of all the days for him to snap.” Grabbing my wrist above my cuff, she squeezed me. “We stick together, okay? No matter what happens out there, we don’t let each other out of our sights.”

I cupped her elbow and nodded, sharing in her quaking. “I promise. I won’t leave your side.”

She gave me a small smile. “I have no idea what Victor is planning, but…he’s in a bad mood, new girl. And when he gets in a bad mood…well, our numbers always seem to go down.”

May drew a cross over her ample bosom and lifted her eyes heavenward. “Please, Jesus, keep these dear ones safe. They’ve suffered enough. Let freedom come soon. Amen.”

Rachel sniffed. “Prayers don’t work, May. But I appreciate it.”

“Prayers do work…if enough people do them at once,” May said. “It’s all about faith.”

“Faith that if we repent and are punished enough, we’ll be allowed out of hell?” Rachel asked with a snide tone.

“You know I mean well—”

“Yes, I know.” Rachel shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“May,” the chef by the huge pot barked. “Get back to work. Let them get on now. If they’re not finished by the time the gong goes, there’ll be even worse hell to pay.”

“Yes, yes, you’re quite right.” May pressed a dry kiss on Rachel’s cheek and then on mine. “Get one of those muesli bars into your tummies. And look after each other. We’ll be here when you need us.”

Unwinding her fingers from my wrist, Rachel went to move, but she stumbled.

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