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“I doubt it lasts long. Lots of handwashing. The store has disinfectant wipes. Those should help too.”
“Indeed. I’ll be sure to pick some up.” My Master looked down as I gripped to him tighter. “We should go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
The doctor nodded, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I couldn’t stop all the questions as they assaulted me. Could fifty’s Master really be intentionally getting her sick? And if so, what if she’d have eaten from that first bag. I’d only eaten four and they almost killed me. Had he meant to kill her? Had he lowered the dose of poison for fear of getting caught after I accidently got sick? She was popping her new ones by the handful. I felt nauseous at the thought. My hand shot to my mouth as I tried not to gag.
“Whoa, slave. Fuck. Not again.”
My head shook as tears blurred my vision. “Not sick. Not like that. Take me home.”
“If you’re not sick, what’s wrong?”
“Take me home.”
And he did. I barely made it inside before I pulled the dress over my head and raced for the shower. Could I accuse a Master of poisoning his slave? Did it matter if he did? We’d been told over the months we were here that we’d probably die. I had been one of the lucky ones, but what about fifty? What if she wasn’t? What if her Master was slowly killing her?
The reality of the situation only had me gagging again as I turned on the water. There was literally nothing I could do. I couldn’t even help her without condemning myself.
“Slave.”
The threat in his tone sent tears racing down my cheeks. I was going to be in so much trouble. What if fifty told her Master what I insinuated? What if he hurt her for it?
“Talk to me. What is wrong with you?”
My head shook, and the sob was automatic.
“You don’t want to tell me?”
Again my hair went bouncing around my face at the shake.
“But there’s something you’re hiding?”
Both my hands pressed over my mouth as I spun in a circle. No one was safe here. Not really. Not even me. My Master was going to leave eventually, and then what would happen? No, I wouldn’t fall into that trap of helplessness. I was a Bordelli. I was strong.
I took a shuddering breath, trying to calm the waves of panic.
“Are you ready to tell me?”
“Es nothing.”
“You’re lying; you can’t even talk straight. Slave, you know how this works. No shower until you release what you’re hiding. Pick your method. Either way, you’re coming clean. I won’t have you sick again, and we know what will happen if you keep this from me. Do you want to invite evil to us?”
There it was, more sobs. My head shook.
“Release and purify. Which one?”
“Bad.”
“It’s bad? How bad?”
My finger shook as I pointed to the lighter that rested on the counter. One of Rob’s eyebrows lifted in surprise but quickly turned to concern. He headed over, pulling me in his arms.
“What the hell did the two of you talk about? I saw you both shut down. Spill it, Clara.”
As he led me to the counter, I eyed the shower. I wanted to clean myself so bad I couldn’t stand it. That couldn’t happen until I either bled out, burned it out, or Master released it through my pain.
“She’s sick.”
“I know. I heard.”
