Page 117 of Death is Familiar

My chances of escape improved drastically without Madame in the room. She was unpredictable, held power, and seemed as though she was only accountable to herself—all in all, a dangerous combination.

“And Warden…” Madame approached the heavy metal door, the only way in or out, punched a number into the keypad on the wall, then took a key out of her pocket to unlock the handle, “Make sure Two gets something to eat. For someone carrying our future, she’s looking rather frail.”

27

“Don’t,” Warden White warned as the door closed over behind Madame.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make a run for it.” He gestured to my collar. “That thing will go off if you so much as touch the door.”

That explained why they hadn’t locked me up while Madame left. They weren’t worried I’d overpower them and escape because I’d be shocked if I tried to leave the room. Fortunately, I’d thought better of making a run for it.

But I’d had enough of sitting, I needed to move.

“Woah,” White grabbed a hold of both of my arms as I got to my feet.

“Let go.” I tried to shake his grip, but my blood pressure plummeted. My head spun, feet fumbling, when Warden White caught me.

“I was just trying to keep you from falling face-first, love.” All of me felt weak, I must have been immobile for longer than I realized. “Here, let’s get you settled in your room.”

My body put up little resistance as we shuffled across the floor into the sparse cell—the tiles and cement grittier than I would have liked—before I was lowered onto the bare mattress.

Keeping the upper half of my body upright, I fought at gravity. “Why is it so hard to move?”

White’s brows knit together. “You haven’t moved in more than a week, love. It’s going to take a little getting used to.”

I thought I might have managed a day in my pit, maybe two, but a week?

Warden White, crouched down to my level, patted my hand. “Everything’s going to be alright. I’ll get you something to eat, I’ll make the grilled cheese you like, and you’ll build up your strength.”

Grilled cheese? I’d eaten? That was news to me. It had been a week, so I must have gotten food into me somehow during that time, but I’d assumed that while I was in my pit I was unresponsive. A vacant shell.

Venturing into the pit was scarier than I realized.

“You look like a mermaid!” Three watched me with rapt fascination, as Warden White exited my cell—sorry, my room. “So beautiful.”

Covered in creature comforts and piles of pillows and blankets, Three’s nest was so much more inviting than the emptiness that surrounded me.

Goosebumps rose over my flesh. Not just from the severity of the situation, or Three’s unsettling chants, but because it was cold.

We must have been at least two-stories underground if it managed to stay this cool in the height of summer. Or there was very good air conditioning. But given the lack of moving air, and the flickering light in the corner, I doubted there was a high-quality HVAC system.

Tired of fighting gravity, I reluctantly laid my upper body on the plain mattress and folded my arms over my chest. “Could I have a blanket?”

Three and White exchanged a look. “No.”

I propped my head up. “Why not?”

Neither of them said anything. Warden White pressed numbers into the keypad beside the door, unfortunately having the wherewithal to hide the code. “Keep an eye on your sister, Three.”

I paid little attention to White’s choice of words, because as soon as he was out of the room, Three scooted across her cage to the bars between our cells with a look which founded many a conspiracy.

Maybe she was smarter than she seemed, maybe the whole child-in-a-woman’s-body thing was an act. Or maybe, just maybe, she would sneak me a blanket.

Instead, she said, “You didn’t know that, did you? That we’re sisters?”

What? Beyond the numbers carved into our faces, we looked nothing like each other. I doubted very much that we shared any of the same DNA.