But we haven’t spoken. Usually I challenge him, but now I’m just letting him sit with me, taking him in. If he wants to speak, he can be the one to start it. I’m hurt; he hurt me. I’m still upset about that, and I haven’t recovered enough to let him back in.

Yet each day I go and sit with him, I find myself warming up. I have begun to crave his fingers on my skin. I have learned to love his smell. He is getting to me.

The last time I saw him, we sat side by side. He didn’t speak, but he took my hand, and placed it in his lap. He held it there for a long time, and eventually I found myself moving closer to him. The warmth of his body soothed me. Before my time was up, he turned and pressed his lips to my forehead, warming me from the inside out.

Number Twelve said he communicates well with her, and by the blush in her cheeks, she is enjoying him as much as I am. She’s got something there. She no longer looks terrified, she no longer looks like she wants to run and escape. Instead, she looks like she waits for him to call her in, like it is now her light.

The idea of that hurts me, and I don’t even know why.

By the end of the week, I’m beginning to feel a little less remorse over Number Three’s death, though at night when I go to bed, I stare at her empty space, and my heart aches for her. I hope she’s happy now. I hope she’s found the peace she was so desperately seeking. She deserves it, probably more than anyone.

“Girls.”

We’re in our room on Wednesday afternoon after having completed our chores early. Bill comes into the room, and his face is relaxed and calm. He’s no longer on full alert; it’s like he’s beginning to trust us. Well, why wouldn’t he? We’ve been perfect.

“Because you’ve all behaved so well this past week, you’re to be rewarded. Master William is giving you the afternoon and evening off. You can roam free, enjoy whatever you like. The library is open, and well stocked. There is a living room that contains a television with a vast range of DVDs. If you want to, get outside, take a swim or a walk through the gardens. We have also put a pack each in the bathroom that contains shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizers. Feel free to use them.”

He nods his head, and turns and walks out.

We all sit and stare at the empty door, the one he has left open. I blink my eyes, confused, and I turn to Number Twelve, who is staring at the door, too. Number Seven is shaking her head softly, like she refuses to believe we’ve just been given free reign of the house and yard.

It has to be a trick.

Right?

“Do you think it’s a trick?” Number Seven asks, mimicking my exact thoughts.

“Why would they let us do as we wished?” Number Twelve murmurs.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “They did say that if we were good, we would be rewarded. Do you think that’s what this is?”

“I’m worried if I go out and accept it, I’ll get punished.”

I nod in agreement with Number Twelve, and stare at the open door space. Instead of going towards it, I get up off my bed and walk into the bathroom. Sure enough, there are three packs in there filled with shampoo, conditioner, and other nice-looking products. There should be four here. Shaking that thought from my mind, I decide to shower. It can’t hurt to at least use this.

I close the doorclo Twelve, gently, and slowly strip out of my clothes. More often than not, we have Bill outside our door when we shower. Now, it’s just me, and my pretty products. I open the one with my number on it, and I pluck out the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. I pop the top on the shampoo, and breathe it in. A small smile appears on my lips as I take in the vanilla scent.

I quickly undress, excited about having nice things. I turn the water onto warm, and step in. I wet my hair quickly, and then I fill my palm with shampoo and lather it in. I close my eyes in sigh as I feel the bubbles beneath my fingers. I rinse it out and do it again for good measure, and then I cover it in conditioner and leave it in while I wash my body with the wash that smells like strawberries.

By the time I get out of the shower, I feel refreshed and new. I also feel strangely calm. I rub my fingers over my arms, and then I pick a fresh set of clothes from the folded pile by the basin. I take the brush from the pack, and run it through my locks before putting it down, and filling my palm with moisturizer. I smooth it over my skin, closing my eyes and enjoying the moment.

I don’t care if this is a trick.

It feels so nice. I could do it over and over again.

When I’m done, I walk back out. The girls look up at me, and Number Twelve smiles. I nod at her, encouraging her to take the same moment I just did. She stands quickly and rushes into the bathroom. We’re like small children on Christmas. You don’t realize how important life’s little luxuries are until you’re starved of them.

“I saw the other groups going past, they said they’re going to the library,” Number Seven says, still sitting on her bed.

“Do you want go, too?”

She nods. “I’ll shower first.”

“I’ll see you there?”

“Do you think we’re making a mistake accepting this?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I honestly don’t know, but isn’t it worth feeling like this...even just for a second?”

Her eyes light up a little, and she nods.

“I’ll meet you there.”

I flash her one last smile, and walk out and down the halls. I find the other girls in the library, just standing and staring at the mass amounts of books lining the walls on dark wooden shelves. I can see they’re unsure, not really wanting to touch or do the wrong thing. No one is willing to be the first person to take that leap.




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