Page 32 of The Marriage

Karine sighed at the new voice behind her. It was Sylvia.

Surprise.

Not.

She was the only one who continued to make normal conversation with her at this point. Everyone else had given up and were trying to either force her, threaten her, or bribe her into submission. To no avail.

Karine looked at the cup the woman passed to her hand, and rolled her eyes. “Probably not—who knows what you’ve put in there?”

“It’s just chamomile tea, don’t worry. We don’t believe in drugging our residents without explaining we’re doing it here. Besides, we’ve been given a history of your past experiences by your husband. Although, he’s admitted he may not have the full picture himself. Anyway, the point is, we’re not going to play around with drugs. You’ve been told you won’t be forced into anything, and you won’t.”

“Except talking, apparently.”

And living.

Karine continued staring at the fish. Her stomach rumbled, and she worried Sylvia would hear. She’d eaten nothing but some dry toast and crackers since her arrival with water to wash it down and keep her stomach from eating itself. It was one thing to be hungry, but it was another to feel like she couldn’t actually eat. She was sure if she put anything of substance into her stomach, she’d throw up.

Even the toast and crackers were a lot.

Too much, really.

Karine refused to speak, staring down at her reflection in the mug of tea. She knew what these people wanted from her—the same thing her father had demanded of her every single of her life.

To obey.

Once Katina died, he couldn’t bear to look at Karine’s face anymore. It had only added to the insecurity she already felt whenever she stared into a mirror. She wondered if he wished their places were reversed. If the supposedly unknown murderer had killed Karine instead of his beloved older daughter.

Most of the time Karine wished for exactly that, too.

Katina was the one who deserved to live a full life and didn’t, while Karine knew she wasn’t capable of having one in the first place. The universe seemed determined to prove it, too.

“This will help calm you, it might even increase your appetite,” Sylvia continued.

Karine felt herself snapping.

Every last nerve burned.

She didn’t want Sylvia to be nice to her.

She didn’t want sympathy or pity.

She just wanted to be left alone.

Before she could control her actions, she threw the mug of chamomile tea to the ground. It crashed, smashing into pieces and spilling over the cobblestones, startling Karine.

She hadn’t meant to do that.

But God, she’d wanted to.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she cried.

Sylvia looked upset, coming towards Karine with open arms like she might hug her.

Karine was already backing away.

“Look what you made me do—just leave me alone! Why won’t you leave me alone?”

She cried the whole way back to her room, and slammed the door behind her when she was finally alone again.