Chapter 3

Time didn’t move in the room. It dragged. Clung. Refused to be measured.

She stopped trying to track it after a while.

There was no point.

No light. No sound. No shift to mark the passing of hours only the slow, creeping awareness of her own body turning against her.

Hunger came first.

A dull ache that sharpened with time.

Thirst followed.

Worse.

Always worse.

Her throat burned. Her lips were dry. But she didn’t call out. Didn’t move more than necessary.

Didn’t give them anything they hadn’t already taken.

The chain rested loosely against her ankle as she sat on the mattress, shoulders relaxed, posture intentional.

Waiting.

Listening.

Thinking.

The sound of the lock broke the stillness.

Her head lifted.

Slowly.

The door opened.

Light from the hallway spilled in just enough to outline two figures before the room swallowed it again.

Elara walked in first.

Of course she did.

“Wow,” she said, looking around like she expected something different. “Still no screaming. I’m starting to feel personally offended.”

Silence.

Elara’s gaze snapped to her immediately.

Bright.

Interested.

“You’re really going to commit to this, huh?” she said, stepping further into the room. “No crying, no begging, no dramatic ‘please let me go’ moment?”

She tilted her head slightly.

“That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

The girl didn’t answer.

Elara smiled.

Slow.

“Oh,” she murmured. “You’re choosing silence.”

Viv entered behind her.

The shift was immediate.

Where Elara filled the room with movement and curiosity, Viv stilled it.

Controlled it.

Owned it.

In her hand

A glass of water.

A plate.

The girl’s eyes flickered.

Just once.

Quick.

But it was there.

Elara caught it. Her smile widened instantly “There it is,” she said softly. “You were doing so well, too.”
The girl’s expression didn’t change.

But her throat moved. A swallow.

Elara stepped closer, stopping just outside the chain’s reach, crouching slightly so they were closer to eye level.

“You’re thirsty,” she said.

Not a question. No response.

Elara leaned in just a little more.

“Say it.”

Silence.

Viv spoke.

“Answer.”

The word cut cleaner.

Sharper.

A pause.

Then,”Yes.”

Her voice was rough.

Dry, But steady.

Elara exhaled like she’d just been given a gift. “Oh, I like hearing you talk,” she said. “You should do it more often.”

Viv stepped forward.

Placed the glass and the plate just within reach.

Deliberate.

Measured. Then stepped back.

“Eat,” she said.

The girl didn’t move right away.

Her gaze stayed on them.

Watching.

Weighing.
Elara noticed immediately. “Still thinking,” she murmured. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

The girl reached forward.

The chain dragged softly against the floor.

Her fingers wrapped around the glass.

Elara’s eyes tracked the movement closely.

Too closely.

“Careful,” she said lightly. “Don’t rush. Wouldn’t want you to choke.”

The girl didn’t react.

She drank.

Slowly.

A couple droplets running down her mouth.

Elara’s brows lifted slightly. “God,” she said softly. “You’re disciplined.”

The girl lowered the glass.

Set it down with care.

“Or stubborn,” Elara added.

The girl looked up at her. Met her gaze directly.

“Same thing,” she said.

A pause.

Then Elara laughed, genuine this time. Sharp and bright in the quiet room.

“Oh, you’re going to be a problem,” she said, almost delighted.

Viv watched the exchange carefully.

Her gaze flicked between them, calculating.

“Finish,” she said.

The girl obeyed.

But her attention never fully left them.

Elara shifted slightly, resting her elbow against her knee, chin in her hand as she studied her like something fascinating.

“You know,” she said casually, “most people try harder to be likable at this stage.”

Silence.

Elara smiled.

“You’re not even trying.” The girl swallowed.

Slow.

“No,” she said.

Elara leaned in a fraction closer. “Why not?”

A beat.

“Because it wouldn’t matter.”

That made Elara pause.

Just for a second, Then her smile returned. Different this time.

Softer.

Sharper.

“Mm,” she hummed. “You’re smarter than the others.”

Viv stepped forward again.

That same quiet authority settling over the space.

“You don’t have a name here,” she said.

The girl didn’t respond.

Elara’s voice slipped in, lighter again but edged.

“Not yet,” she added. “We’re still deciding if you deserve one.”

The girl’s fingers curled slightly against the mattress. Viv noticed.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “you’ll be given rules.”

A pause.

“You’ll follow them.”

The girl tilted her head slightly.

“And if I don’t?”

Elara’s eyes lit up immediately. “There it is,” she whispered. “I was waiting for that.” Viv didn’t react outwardly.

“Then you’ll learn,” she said.

Simple.

Final.

The girl held her gaze. Didn’t look away. Didn’t challenge further, But didn’t submit either.

Elara stood, brushing her hands together lightly “Well,” she said, almost cheerful, “this is already my favorite part.”

Viv turned toward the door.

Elara followed, But stopped just before stepping out.

She looked back.

Their eyes met again.

This time, Elara smiled slower.

More deliberate.

“You’re trying very hard not to react,” she said softly.

A small pause. “I wonder how long that’s going to last.”

The door shut. The lock clicked.

Silence returned. The darkness returned, But it wasn’t empty anymore.

It lingered.

Heavy with something unfinished.

The girl sat still for a long moment. Her gaze shifted to the door, Then to the chain.

Her fingers tightened just slightly.

And then, the tears began again.