He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small silver bell. It looks like a dinner bell.
"What is that?" I ask, wiping my eyes.
"This," he says, "is your new metronome."
He rings it.Ding.The sound is clear, sharp, piercing.
"Stand up," he commands.
I hesitate. He rings it again.Ding."Stand up."
My body reacts before my mind does. The conditioning of the last twenty-four hours—the commands, the rewards, the punishments—kicks in. I stand up.
"Sit down."Ding.I sit.
"Stand up."Ding.I stand.
I hate it. I hate that I am doing it. But the fear of him, combined with the confusing relief that heunderstandsmy darkest secret, makes me pliable.
Alaric smiles. "Good."
He places the bell on the table. "We are going to channel that rage, Elodie. You used silence to destroy your father. I am going to teach you to usesound."
He walks to the door and opens it. "Session over. You did well. You admitted the truth."
I stand there, feeling raw, exposed, and strangely lighter. The secret I carried for eight months is out. And he didn't call me crazy. He called me a weapon.
"What happens now?" I ask.
"Now?" Alaric checks his watch. "Now, I have a meeting with the board. You have free time."
"Free time?"
"Within the suite," he clarifies. "But... because you were honest today..." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. Not the key card. A small, brass key.
He tosses it to me. I catch it.
"The piano lid," he says. "In the Music Room."
My heart leaps into my throat. "You're letting me play?"
"One hour," he says. "I will be listening via the surveillance feed. If you play chaos... if you play pain... I will come down there and close the lid on your fingers. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, I understand."
"Play scales," he orders. "Play structure. Rebuild the discipline."
He steps closer, blocking my exit. "And Elodie?"
"Yes?"
"Play forme."
He leans down and kisses me. It’s not a bite this time. It’s a real kiss. Hard. Possessive. His lips crush mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, tasting me, claiming me. It lasts only a second, but it burns all the way down to my toes. He pulls back, his eyes dark.
"Go."
I run. I run out of the room, down the corridor, clutching the brass key like it’s the most precious thing in the world. I don't think about Julian screaming in the observation room. I don't think about the bell. I only think about the keys.
