Page 161 of Plug and Drain

She couldn’t take any more. She couldn’t… she couldn’t…

I’m not okay.

The realisation slammed into her, and she scampered onto her feet and ran for the open door, dodging Nathaniel and Arken.

The open door loomed closer in slow motion.

Henrikk watched her approach. He made no move to stop her, and gestured with a flourish at the exit.

One step past the desk.

Two more steps. Over the sea of fallen books.

Three steps. She was at the door.

Henrikk was perfectly still. He would let her go. She could tell. He was done with her.

He was done with her.

She was finished.

It was over, and there was nothing left to salvage, but she would try. She would find a quiet part of the school and sort through her broken pieces for something worth keeping.

Something to mend.

Something to cherish and remember.

A glimmer of the daughter her parents had loved.

Or she would die.

If there was nothing worth keeping, she would die.

There had to be something.

There was always something.

Susie couldn’t see, her eyes stinging from tears. She’d hardly made it to the door before sharp pain ripped through her entire being.

Blinding, soul-destroying pain. It began somewhere near the base of her spine and shot through her until she felt agony everywhere.

It was excruciating to walk, to stand, to run, but it had taken her several steps before she’d registered the pain. It had all caught up to her in an instant and she crumpled with a silent scream. She tried to catch herself on the door, but it swung sideways, and she fell fast, the ground flying up.

Her body slammed against it, and there was a voice shouting at her that wasn’t Arken’s.

Then silence.

Footsteps. The press of a hard toe against her hip—someone’s shoe.

Henrikk’s voice. “Her tail, probably. It seems I’ve accidentally broken your little toy, Arken. But Zott assures me there are others more suited to your station. I look forward to seeing what you procure for me next time.”

Her body lay in the doorway. Henrikk rolled her aside with his foot, and the door closed.

“Go to her,” said Nathaniel.

Arken was already there, touching her as if he’d never left. As if he had a right to touch her. As if he cared.

Bitterness swelled. It was amazing she could feel anything beyond the pain, but she felt venom fill her veins, a rapid self-destruction of her heart to prevent anyone salvaging anything. It was all a trap. All lies.