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“How did you know where to find me?”

“I watched Cain build this. He told me it was for his kitten.” She smiles, then enters a new combination. It clicks, her entire face lighting up. “Come on out; I have a story to tell you.” I crawl through the small door, stretching out my body as I stand. “You’ll want to sit down for this.” She sits down cross-legged on the bed, patting the spot next to her.

Sitting down is the last thing I want to do after being in my cage for a few hours. But I follow her lead.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy. One night, he went down to the dining room for family dinner. It was a full spread: roasted root vegetables, warm, fresh-from-the-oven bread, and meatloaf. Tensions had been growing in the home, and his dad wanted to do something special to try to reconnect. The boy’s dinner had been plated for him when he got there; his brothers were serving themselves from the dishes in the center of the table.

‘Where’s Mom?’ The boy asked. His father said that she had her own dinner plans that night. She wouldn’t be coming back until later.

The boy was very close to his mother. With the rising tensions and her absence, he didn’t have much of an appetite. And he thought, when he looked closely, that his meat loaf didn’t look like the meat loaf on the table. So, he sat quietly, shuffling his meal around the dish. Until his father says, ‘Don’t let a bite go to waste.’ And to keep the peace, he ate.

Once he finished, his brothers were dismissed. His father wanted a moment alone with the boy.

‘Don’t ever betray this family, son. Or this is what happens.’ He said as he gestured to the boy’s now empty plate, ‘Bon appetite.’

The boy retched, his body hunched from contractions as he vomited all over the table. He ran. Out of the dining room, out of the house, and into the Forge.”

My chest tightens, I focus on my breathing, and I rub my fingertips together. My heart rate rises, and for a moment I find it hard to focus, but then she continues.

“The boy ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it into the shimmering coals still hot from the day; the fabric ignited, illuminating him for a few moments. He stood there, heaving breaths as he stared into the flames. He yelled, the growling and roaring emanating throughout the forge and into the apartment above.

He began digging, scratch after scratch, left hand, right hand over his stomach. Again and again and again. His fingertips filled with skin and blood as he says, ‘I’ve got to get her out. I’ve got to get her out.’ Over and over until his abdomen is open, raw, with divots from the missing flesh. ‘It’s not enough. It’s not enough,’ he said between quick, shallow breaths. He threw himself over, grabbed a knife from the bench, and plunged it into his stomach.”

Dahlia reaches over, wiping her thumb over my cheek, then tucking my hair behind my ear before she continues.

“Cain couldn’t hear me yelling for him to stop.” She removes the gloves she always wears, revealing burn-scarred skin. “He couldn’t see me in front of him when he shoved me into the coals to grab the knife,” she says, gently brushing her fingers over her scars. “Once my father and I wrestled him into submission and got him to the hospital, he broke down crying. Cain looked at me and said, ‘I ate my mother. I need to get her out.’”

I sniffle, and I wrap my arms around my waist to stifle my trembling hands. All this time, the scars, his issues with food—with meat. It’s far worse than I had ever imagined.

No wonder he hid us for so long.

“Are you okay?” Dahlia asks, rubbing my shoulder.

“N-no…”

“I’m sorry… I just thought that you should know. His methods don’t sound nearly as extreme when you find out why.” She puts her gloves back on when the lock on the door clicks, and Cain walks in.

I wipe my eyes. Cain walks in, and all I see is the boy sitting in the rain by his mother’s garden grave. I can’t help myself; I jump from the bed and run to him, throwing my arms around his neck and crashing my lips into his.

“You can keep me hidden forever,” I say as tears fall from my eyes. “I’ll be your secret, and I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go.” He smiles, brushing his lips over mine. Then I drop down, and from behind his back, he pulls out my cat. “And Snowdrop? How did you find him?” My old cat has been missing since the night Richard beat me. Given his age and not coming when I called, I was sure he had died. I hug him and he nuzzles into my neck.

“I set a few traps for him. Figured you could use his company… I know you’ve missed him.” Cain scratches behind Snowdrop’s ear as he looks over my face. He brushes his finger beneath each of my eyes, then turns to Dahlia. She’s standing at the edge of the bed, beaming at him. Cain walks over, kisses the top of her head, then covers her face with his hand and walks her back towards the door. “Get out of here, troublemaker.”

“You’re welcome!” She chimes, then waves to us and shuts the door behind her. Cain locks the door, then turns to me.

“Looks like you’re dealing with a lot. Let’s enter a good mindset, Slave.”

“Look how steady you are.” Master’s low voice praises from above me. “In the face of the unknown and an unstable world, you hold strong, Slave… Ten more seconds.”

“May I speak, Master?” I ask, then take a deep, controlled breath.

“Yes, Slave.”

“I can go more than ten more seconds.” Master chuckles.

“Your body is capable. But your body deserves kindness… Three. Two. One. Smirno.” Attention. I rise from my plank position and stand tall; hands placed softly at my sides. “Given your current state,” Master says, rubbing his hand over my belly, “and our current circumstances, frequency is more important than intensity. Besides, I’m not done with you yet, Slave.” His voice lowers at the end.

We’ve been working for three-quarters of an hour, and I feel I could go for another three-quarters.