The eggs are perfect.
The toast is made from bread that tastes homemade.
But I can barely taste it.
"You found the library," Vaughn says.
I freeze. "How did you know?"
He taps his phone. "I get alerts when certain rooms are accessed."
Cameras. Or motion sensors.
"I wasn't stealing anything," I say.
"I didn't think you were. You're welcome to read anything you like."
"I don't need your permission."
"Nevertheless, you have it."
I hate that word.Nevertheless.
Like my objections are just noise he's humoring.
"I'm going back to my room," I say, pushing my plate away.
"You've barely eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eden."
Something in his voice makes me look up.
His eyes are softer than before. Almost... concerned?
No. That can't be right.
"You need to eat," he says. "I know this is difficult. I know you're scared. But you need to take care of yourself."
"Why do you care?"
"Because you're mine to take care of now."
There it is again. That possessive word.Mine.
"I'm not yours," I say.
"We've established you believe that. But belief doesn't change reality."
I stand. "I'm going to my room."
He doesn't stop me.
I make it to the doorway before he speaks again.
"There are books in your room too. On the nightstand. I thought you might like them."
