Page 22 of A Madness of Crows

My fists are clenched, my breathing heavy as the soft sobbing continues next to me. Cecile crouches down, meeting my eyes.

“Do you know why I’m so verygoodat what I do, Caterina?”

I let the hate fill my eyes as I stare at her. She only tilts her head with a smile. “Because I work out what makes people obedient. How to get themostout of our product. Andyou– I’ve met others like you. You’re nothing special. And I will train you, just as well as I trained every other bitch with a big mouth who walked through my doors.”

She stands, clicking her fingers. The girl next to me lets out a terrified cry as the guards push her forward, and I jolt, reaching for her as spots dance in front of my eyes.

Panic that turns to fear, ice cold fear inside my chest as they press a gun to the back of her head.No—

I yank my hands back and stay completely still, my head leaning forward, and Cecile clicks her tongue. “That’s better. Youbreathewrong, and she’ll be the one who pays for it.”

The girl is hauled back into line next to me. Shaking, she assumes the same position as everyone else.

Breathing heavily, I quickly scan the line before copying their movement, my heart thudding inside my chest.

The panic doesn’t recede. It stays exactly where it is as we’re lined up, measured and poked and prodded. Cameras flash as they push me to face forward, side, turn,again.

We’re taught to smile. To act pretty.Perfect.

We’re taught other things, too. Things that make nausea surge in my stomach as Cecile pulls everyone up todemonstratethat they understand.

When her eyes land on me, they move to Stefano. And move on.

All the while, I feel his gaze on my bare back.

The soup they pass out for lunch is barely lukewarm, but the girls around me drink it from the metal cups as if they haven’t been fed for days. Stefano gives me a nod when I give him a questioning glance. He stands silently at the back of the room, not speaking to anyone else.

We sit quietly, Cecile talking to one of the guards in the far corner.

I risk a glance at the girl next to me, the one that Cecile has been holding over my head all day. She stares into her empty cup as she carefully sets it down, her shoulders hunching in as she looks to where the guards talk, their eyes leering as they scan our group.

My hands are faster.

I lift my now-empty cup to my lips and feign a sip, waiting for the girl to notice the full one beside her. Blue eyes flick to the empty cup in my hands, and her fingers tremble as she reaches for the full one.

I almost miss the soft whisper. “Thank you.”

My chest constricts.

What will happen to her?

“I’m sorry,” I breathe, staring ahead. “I’m so sorry.”

A hand brushes against mine as the guards focus again.

When the day is finally over, I stay where I am until the last girl is herded out by Cecile, the door closing behind them. The guards follow, and the excitement in their hissed voices is enough to tell me what’s going to happen now. “They’re going to the other room.”

“Yes.”

A pause, and then Stefano settles down next to me, lifting up his knees and resting his elbows on them. Crumpled pink material appears under my nose.

I am not grateful for clothes.

Clothes are a basic fucking human right.

I chant the thought as I tug it over my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “You were right.”

I nearly got that girl killed with my mouth.