Was I complete?
Then something behind her caught my attention, making me strain to try and turn my head for a better look.
Another woman.
I could smell her before I could see her clearly.
Saliva, sweat, and a fruit perfume.
She wasn’t dressed like any of Natalie’s employees. Not the usual tactical clothing, or servant-style outfit. There was no expensive business attire, either.
This girl was wearing dark jeans, black fluffy boots, and a fitted leather jacket over a charcoal blouse that looked like it was completely lace. Her auburn curls rested on her shoulders, and she carried herself with effortless confidence. She was very pretty.
She wasn’t scanning the room like Natalie.
She’d already assessed it, or maybe it was familiar to her.
She knew what was around her, as evidenced by her calm expression. She knew one other thing.
Me.
Her green eyes lingered on the restraint suit before drifting to my face, and she smiled without Natalie seeing.
It wasn’t pity like I might have expected. I was covered in my own shit and piss. Nothing new necessarily, but usually I had a bag I could use. Natalie told me it was improper to shit on myself, but the suit left me no choice. It was caked on my body, and it felt cool now, no longer warm.
The girl was staring at me with an intrigue that suggested she wasn’t bothered by my odor, unlike Natalie, whose face twisted in disgust as she complained.
“You are filthy. Really, Cry Baby, you need some manners.”
The girl winked at me, and I blinked in response.
Assessment.
That was the look!
Hmm.
Interesting.
Natalie stepped into the room and her heels resumed the clickity sound.
Click.
Click.
Click.
She stopped directly in front of me and sneered down at me like I was repulsive.
“You’ve been counting, Cry Baby. How sad. I hear you at night. So loud you cry. Poor Cry Baby. You are so disgusting.”
“I’ve been breathing, Natalie.”
“You count that too.”
I didn’t answer. She was right. The past few nights I’d been counting everything I could. The trickles dripping down my leg from the piss, the seconds it took to empty my bladder, each heartbeat. I’d stopped at one thousand five hundred and sixteen.
Her smile widened at my words.
