Page 261 of His To Erase

Until then, I sit. I wait. I rot. Repeat.

It’s not bad really, I’m just a little more cracked than yesterday, a little quieter, and a little less me.

Five stars. Would recommend.

I close my eyes and my chest tightens like I’m being vacuum-sealed into my own ribcage.

I remember walking back in here, and by walking back here, I mean being escorted by sir-speaks-a-lot. Then I remember closing the door, and breaking. Completely. Silently. Crying myself to sleep seems to be part of my self-care routine at this point.

Some part of me must still think I can outsmart monsters. That if I’m funny enough, strong enough, or stubborn enough—I’ll stay safe.

Jokes on me, I’m not safe. Not even close. Nothing feels real anymore, and as much as I want to believe I’m strong enough, I find myself slipping, wondering if I’ll actually make it out of this.

My hands curl into the bedding as my fists tighten, like that’s going to help. I should get up. Move. Scream. Set something on fire.I’m going insane.

Instead, I just lay here, staring at the ceiling like it might crack open and drop me into the void. A silent tear slips down my cheek.

The fact that he thinks I should be grateful for the things he does makes me want to throw up and find the nearest sharp object to stab him with. He found my knife, so now I get searched before and after I leave the room.

I almost want him to do whatever it is he keeps threatening, just so I know where the bottom is. At least then I can stop falling.

No.

Stop it.

You’re Ani. You have teeth. You have fire. You have?—

Nothing.

No phone. No allies. No plan.

Just a closet full of silk and a man who carved my freedom into a contract I’ve never seen.

I drag myself into a sitting position and the robe clings to my skin. I glance around the room, noting how nothing is different.Except for me.

This is the first morning I don’t wake up with a plan. No escape route. No snide comebacks. No fantasy of stabbing him with a dessert fork and sprinting barefoot into the woods.

Just… silence.

I fold my arms over my stomach.Is today going to be the day I break?I sit there for a long time. Long enough to watch the light change across the floor. Long enough to start counting the scratches in the wood paneling under the window.

Sixteen.

At least none of them are mine.

I wonder if Sarah’s sent out a search party yet. Sloane would probably assume I finally snapped and quit without telling anyone. She’d roll her eyes, call me a disaster, and cover my shift anyway.

Would anyone even call? Check my apartment? And what the fuck is happening to Steven?Oh my God. Bern.

The thought hits so fast I can’t brace for it. My chest caves in as my throat tightens. I blink hard, once. Then again. And suddenly my eyes are burning.

Not now.

Not fucking now.

That slow, ugly swell of panic rises in my throat. Steven’s gone and Bern’s probably pacing the cabin, waiting for a door that won’t open.Oh my god, her last owners left her there. She’s probably traumatized.Another tear slips out.

No one’s coming.