Thought maybe when he looked at me, he saw a person instead of property.
Thought maybe?—
It doesn't matter what I thought.
The invitation tells me everything I need to know.
Tells me the truth I've been too blind or too desperate to see.
I'm not a person to him.
Not someone he cares about or wants to help heal.
I'm an investment.
A purchase he needs to break in, to train, to prepare for a showcase before the spring gathering where he'll prove to the Consortium's inner circle that he deserves his place among them.
Just like Elder Jacob, who wanted to marry me to prove his status in the Sanctuary.
Just like my father, who promised me to Elder Jacob to secure his own position among the elders.
Just like every man at the Sanctuary who saw women as property to be controlled and displayed and used to demonstrate their power.
Vaughn Sutherland is just better at wrapping the cage in silk and calling it freedom.
Better at making me want my own captivity.
Better at training me to love my chains.
I back away from the desk, my breath coming too fast, the room spinning around me.
I need to get out of here.
I need to leave this office before he comes back and finds me snooping.
I need to think, to process, to figure out what to do with this information.
Need to?—
Voices.
I can hear voices from the foyer. Movement. Footsteps.
Someone's here.
My heart hammers as I slip out of Vaughn's office as quietly as possible, closing the door to exactly how I found it—slightly ajar.
I move toward the sound, drawn by something I can't name.
Curiosity. Desperation.
The wild hope that maybe, somehow, this is my chance.
A delivery truck is parked in the circular drive.
I can see it through the tall windows that flank the front door.
Two men in work uniforms are carrying boxes—large ones, furniture maybe, or supplies for the house.
