Page 41 of The Favorite Girl

“I don’t understand what being the favorite girl even means? Why aren’t you trying to be that?”

“Me?” Becca tossed her head back, breaking into laughter. “I don’t want to leave my home—” She covered her mouth as she quickly tried to silence herself.

“Home?” I questioned, completely stunned by her reaction.

“Demi, I was married to a man who beat me daily. He almost killed me multiple times, and I can guarantee you, had Daphne and Ian not taken me in and given me an entirely new identity, he would have found me and done it. This is home.” Becca waved her arms around.

“But the… the caged girls,” I whispered.

Becca’s face lost its color as she slowly walked away from me, turning to her vanity and cleaning her scissors with an alcohol wipe. “The caged girls were drug addicts.” She glanced at me through the mirror. “Drug addicts who were a burden on society. The Ivory family saved their lives. You just don’t get it… They are saving the weakest women and helping to guide us toward a brand-new life. You should be grateful, Demi.” She pointed the scissors directly at me with pursed lips.

“Drug addicts?” I whispered, completely confused. Was that what Dr. Ivory’s experimental study was? But the all-white rooms, no sound, no visual changes, and all-white food…? How was that healthy? Those women were trapped in a colorless, soundless boxes. This wasn’t rehabilitation… this was complete sensory deprivation.

“The favorite girl is the one who wants to go back into the bloodcurdling world and fly free. Dr. and Mrs. Ivory don’t like it, but they have enormous hearts and only want what’s best for their girls. The thing is… I’ve been hearing some whispers that they are trying to find a favorite girl who will eventually be the next Mrs. Ivory.” Becca smiled happily.

“Why would Daphne… Mrs. Ivory be okay with that? Is she planning on divorcing Dr. Ivory?” I stood and shook the straggling hair from my body.

“No silly! They want the favorite girl to marry Conrad and eventually take over the estate and carry on their study. Dr. Ivory is starting to feel as if he can’t carry it all out in the upcoming years. Besides, the wedding would be stunning! Can you imagine being the next Mrs. Ivory?” Becca clutched her chest and swooned over the thought of marrying Conrad.

“So, the favorite girl will be asked to marry Conrad and take over… all of this?” I asked curiously.

“Yes! Now you need to go and clean the pulchritudo floor. Mrs. Ivory has an event tonight; she’ll want her room in the best shape.”

Nodding while every ounce of this insane information circled my mind, the door opened and Bradley was there. Ironically, I felt like a caged girl, too. Weren’t we all? Locked in with no way to escape? Our wings damaged and paralyzed with no option.

“Wow.” Bradley sucked in a breath as soon as he saw me, and immediately realized his reaction was out of character.

“It’s horrific, I know.” I looked away and gripped my cart.

“Nothing about you is horrific, Demi,” Bradley said so quietly, I swore I had made it up in my head. I paused and looked at him. I wanted to smile. But as soon as I thought how kind the words Bradley said were, I thought about the magnitude of the dangerous situation I was in. Should I believe Becca? Were those women all former-drug addicts who would have definitely been dead by now, and this is just some outlandish medical experiment to help them with withdrawal?

I barely had an education, so I didn’t have a clue about medicine. But Dr. Ivory was disgusting. He was on top of me in the middle of the night, threatening me. He was calling those women his ‘birds.’ Rubbing my face, I knew I had to do something. I had to help these girls; I had to save them and myself. There were better resources out there for these women.

I just needed to sneak away and call the police.

We wove through hallways, and it seemed like a mirror reflection of each ‘wing.’ Every hallway identical, even the decorations were duplicates. There was no color, and the walls and floors stitched together.

“I’m going to the Ossis floor to give… them food.” Bradley looked at his cart. “I’ll come pick you back up after. It’ll take you time to clean Mrs. Ivory’s room. She’s very particular that you brush everything.”

“Brush everything?” I raised my eyebrows and swallowed the saliva in my mouth that was coating my otherwise dry mouth.

“I’ll see you in a little bit.” Bradley shrugged and turned away.

“Bradley!” I called out behind him.

He flung around and put his index finger against his lips. “Shh!” he shushed me with fear in his eyes.

“What are they getting to eat today?”

“Plain rice and yogurt.” Bradley’s lips tightened into a straight line as he stared into my eyes. I could tell he wanted so desperately to say something else, but he didn’t. He walked away and the door silently slid shut behind him.

The knots in my stomach grew tighter but then suddenly, the door slid open and I did what I knew best.

Survive.

Holding my breath, I walked through with my cart. Thankfully, the room wasn’t stark white. Exhaling as I paused in the center of the room with parted lips, my breathing grew quicker as my heart started to pound harder.

When Bradley said my job today was to ‘brush everything,’ I wasn’t sure what he meant. But as I stood there in Mrs. Ivory’s ‘special’ room, I saw the endless wigs, neatly lined on shelves with spotlights over them.

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