“No!” I shot to my feet, but Caretaker reacted instantly.
He grabbed mum’s head, forcing it to the side while Jürgen lifted a blade and sliced off her hair in one brutal swipe.
“Sit down,” Caretaker snarled, “or the next cut won’t be her hair.”
I collapsed back into the chair so fast my knees nearly buckled.
“She’ll need to be retrained,” he said coldly. “Which means we start from the beginning.” Releasing her, she crumpled to the floor beside him. A broken sound escaped her, a half sob, half gasp as her fingers trembled through the jagged strands of her hair.
Jürgen looked down his nose at her. “That’s assuming we can find a placement for someone her age.”
“You’re right,” Caretaker sighed, already reaching for his knife and fork as if this was a casual dinner conversation. “If not, she’ll be given to the men for free use.” He sliced into his steak.
I sat there, shaking as mum sobbed, the sounds almost a dry heave. I’d never felt hate like it. Not toward a person. Not toward anything.
My hands curled into fists in my lap.
After a few minutes, the clatter of cutlery hit ceramic. “You’re not eating.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
“You’ll eat,” he replied calmly, “or I’ll hurt her.”
My stomach twisted, but I picked up my fork and immediately stabbed a potato.
“Good,” Caretaker murmured. “Obedience always comes easier when you have something to lose.” He watched me for a moment, eyes sharp and assessing. “Are you disgusted that she named you Violet? It’s the nameIgave her when she first came to me for training. She cried then too, when I cut her hair.”
My grip tightened around the fork.
“It affects most of them,” he continued, picking up his wine glass. “The girls especially. Shaving their head, denying them the prettiness they hide behind… it strips away their pride. Their sense of self. Once that’s gone, they stop fighting who they really are.”
He smiled, waiting for me to comment.
I didn’t.
“See? You’re already learning.” He smirked.
“Please, don’t hurt her,” mum whispered, barely audible. “Please.”
Jürgen stepped forward, but Caretaker lifted his hand for him to stop. “Tell her how you stole a child with the intention of selling her to the highest bidder.”
Mum’s head snapped up, eyes wide and shining. “No… no… no.”
“Tell her how you arranged a buyer long before you ever decided to run. Because deep down, you couldn’t stand that she was special, when you were nothing.”
Mum sobbed, her voice breaking apart. “Please… stop. Please…”
“Enough,” I snapped.
I didn’t want to hear any more. But Caretaker wasn’t finished.
“Now,”he continued with a gloat, “tell her howyou’rethe one that killed her birth mother.”
My breath caught, and mum’s sobs went still.
“Mum?” I whispered after a moment, her eyes wet when they met mine.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “I didn’t mean?—”
