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Pulling at my arm, he starts walking, dragging me behind him.
“Zach, what are you doing?”
I’m stumbling; my feet are getting caught up in the sheet. I want to pull it up but my hand is fisted around it to keep it in place, along with the t-shirt he gave me.
A second later, that’s not what I’m thinking about, the tangled-up sheet, because he opens the door and delivers the harshest pull, shoving me out of his room.
Did he just…
Kick me out?
I whirl around to find him at the threshold.
“Put something on and stay out.”
He shuts the door with a bang, leaving me wrapped up in his sheet and clutching his t-shirt.
Panic claws at my throat, my stomach. I’m shaking. Frantically, I look down at myself and then at the empty, dimly-lit hallway.
I think I’m going to throw up.
I’m so cold and the only thing warm in my hands is the garment he gave me.
I don’t know how long I stand there, trembling, staring at his door, still in shock. Humiliated to my very soul.
Then I hear a crash and a bang and a deep growl.
It somehow wakes me up, gets me moving.
I clutch his t-shirt to my chest and by sheer muscle memory, locate a powder room a few doors down. I get in, let the sheet drop to the floor and put his shirt on.
There’s a mirror to my right but I’m afraid to look at it. I don’t want to see my damaged, vandalized body.
Bending down, I pick up the sheet and wrap it around my shoulders.
Then I start walking, looking at my feet. I jump when I hear more crashes, a glass breaking.
They match the sounds of chaos inside my body.
I don’t remember climbing down the stairs or walking through the sleepy mansion, until I find myself in the servant’s wing and a light comes on.
It’s harsh and I squint my eyes against it.
“Cleo?”
It’s Maggie.
“What happened? Are you okay? You weren’t in your room.”
Still shaking, I look at her with tear-clogged eyes. “I was in h-his.”
Her eyes go wide as she realizes what I mean by his. “Master Zach’s?”
I nod.
She grabs my shoulders. “Did he… did he do something to you?”
“He broke my heart.”
