Page 262 of Coal Hearts

“She committed suicide?” My eyebrows rose.

“Might as well have.” Citra sniffed sadly.

Peter shot her a look, then locked his stare on mine. “She didn’t tell us how badly she was hurt after a Master beat her. She shut down and went quiet. No one noticed her fading away. She even served her Master again, all while her body kept dying. By the time she woke us the next night and said she didn’t feel well, it was too late. She died of internal bleeding.”

I placed my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do what she did. Don’t shut down—”

“I give you my word, I won’t do that.” I hated the panic glazing his eyes. The out-of-control helplessness. The tragic inability to make a difference. My voice shook with conviction. “I promise.”

He nodded without looking at me.

I dropped my eyes, hating that I’d made another vow.

I didn’t seem very good at keeping them.

Opening my fingers, I studied my pendant.

The weighted agony of grief swelled all over again.

Homesickness and horror. Panic and pain.

I wanted so, so badly to leave.

To run out of this claustrophobic, sadistic place and never look back.

But...a heavy sense of calm forced back the avalanche of terror.

I’d spent my entire life caring for Krish. I hadn’t been his parent in the terms of physical things. Our mother and father did a fantastic job of keeping him fed, clothed, and content. But I was the parent of his soul. I was the only one lucky enough to connect with him on the level where he was most comfortable. Sometimes that was a silent level. Sometimes almost mystical. When others couldn’t get through to him, I could, and...that was a gift, never an obligation.

I closed my eyes and sank into a split-second meditation.

I tumbled so deep, so true, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was meant to be here.

Not to endure.

But to survive.

To help all these forgotten slaves survive.

To help Peter survive.

Sucking in a deep breath, I did my best to gather up the remnants of the girl left over from last night. I refused to let my broken heart jump to conclusions. Henri had been drunk. I’d been drugged. We both did things we shouldn’t.

Today is a new beginning.

Today is the day help will come...you’ll see.

Fisting my pendant, I went to thread it around my neck.

Peter curled his fingers around my wrist. “You can’t. No jewelry apart from our collar and cuffs.” Flicking a look toward the bedroom, he forced a smile. “Seeing as you’ll be the only one not storing drugs in your pillow, keep it there. Touch it. Sleep with it. Don’t use it to remember a life you can never go back to but to stay alive in this one, no matter the cost.”

Exhaling heavily, I studied him.

What changed for him to encourage me to stay breathing when last night, before the orgy-dinner, he’d said I’d be better off running into electrocution to avoid whatever a Diamond Kiss was?

No answers appeared in his guarded stare.