By the time we reached the castle, Mikaela had drifted off to sleep. I carried her to my room, laid her on the bed, removed her shoes, and covered her with the blanket. Unable to walk away just yet, I studied her sleeping face and twitching eyelids wishing I could see into her troubled mind.
Lowering myself to the edge of the bed, I gently moved aside the wisps of hair that had come loose from the bun she wore. “What did he do to you?” I whispered. “Let me in, love,” I pleaded, hoping she’d finally speak freely about her past. There was no telling what trauma Andrew had unleashed. I couldn’t ignore the niggle she would come out of her dreams, distraught. “I’m here, sweet Ella.” Watching her for another minute, I stood, removed my jacket, and slid onto the couch. I intended to be right here when she woke.
Chapter 47 – Mikaela
“Read it again, mama.” Lying on her lap, I stare up at her pretty blue eyes.
“Oh, Cinder.” She laughs. I like that sound. It tickles my chest and makes me smile. “We’ve read it three times already. You know the words without looking at them.”
I giggle. Mama taught me how to read; even though I can’t say some words, I know what they mean. “Will he come, mama?” I ask the same question I always ask after she reads Cinderella to me.
Slowly, she runs her hands through my hair. It makes me feel sleepy. I close my eyes and listen to her voice. “Yes, my baby, one day your prince will come. He’ll save you and take you to his big castle where you’ll run free, ride horses, wear pretty dresses, dance, and sing like Cinderella.”
“Promise,” I yawn. She doesn’t speak, and I open my eyes. “Mama.” I sit up and touch her wet cheeks. “Why are you crying?”
She pulls me to her chest, holding me tight. We stay like that until she leans back and looks at me. “Cinder,” she whispers. “Always remember everything I taught you, okay?”
“To never cry?” I ask, wondering why she is telling me this now.
“Yes, you—”
The grinding sound of the bolt on the door, which we both hate, makes her stop and look away. “Come.” Quickly, she grasps my arm, guiding me to the floor. The heavy door drags open on the tiled floor as we kneel, close our eyes, and clasp our hands together in front of our chests. He—the man we call Master walks in. I know the sound of his footsteps. I have heard them for so long, I can tell. Mama calls it a limp.
“Hello, kitten.” I don’t open my eyes, feeling him crouch behind me, his breath warm on my neck, his smell that funny scent I don’t like. “My perfect kitten. So perfect.” I feel his finger on my arm, his touch is cold, and I shiver, wishing for him to go away.
“Is she ready, Sixty?”
I know it’s a number, but Mama didn’t tell me why he called her that name.
I hear Mama make a noise before she speaks. “Please, Master,” she sounds frightened. “She’s just a baby. She’s not ready.”
Mama told me this day would come. The day Master would call me his big girl. I know what that means, and I don’t like it. When he visits, Master takes Mama and me to the red room. I don’t like that room, but I don’t like what he does to Mama even more. Especially when he makes me sit and watch Mama’s mouth do those things to him. Sometimes she cries, and sometimes she can’t breathe. I am not allowed to move or say anything when we’re in there. And if I close my eyes, he hurts Mama more. Scared for her, I watch everything.
Sometimes, he looks at me and says, ‘don’t worry, little kitten, you will be my big girl soon.’
Now I’m frightened too because I don’t want to do those things Mama does. I only want to sit with her, listen to the fairytales she reads, and hear her laugh.
