Page 36 of A Thin Line

The Employee will not intentionally destroy, harm, vandalize, demolish, or mar anything, whether physical or digital, in the Residence that does not belong to her. Vandalism will not be tolerated and will be punished to the full extent of the law.

* * *

I had only made it through a page and a half of what I considered “do’s and don’ts” and I was sick to my stomach. So many of these rules encroached on my personal freedom—but the last one I read was insulting…and it was a good reminder that Whittier, now Mr. W., still believed I was guilty for the destruction of the simulation lab.

Quickly, I flipped through the next several pages. One ended in the middle, saying something about my obligation being fulfilled at the end of ten years, regardless of the amount of work I’d performed. At least he planned to keep his part of the bargain in writing.

The last two pages were a Non-Disclosure Agreement—but it felt like they’d already covered that crap in the rules.

I tossed the papers on the table and the lawyer said, “I recommend you read through the contract thoroughly and let us know what questions you have before you sign.”

Unclenching my jaw, I said, “I’m not signing it.”

Mr. Canterbury said, “You can, of course, have time to think about it.”

Whittier’s voice when he spoke wasn’t quite as tempered as his attorney’s. “You will sign it or the deal’s off.”

Canterbury cleared his throat. “We can’t, uh, force her to sign it. If she signs it under duress, that makes the entire contract null and void.”

Whittier raised his eyebrow—and the piercing gaze of his ice-blue eyes were frightening, but I knew somehow that I had the upper hand here. Although the simmering anger could be heard in his voice, he didn’t yell. “All right. Take time to think about it—but while you do, interest on the damages will be accruing every day you do not sign.”

I simply crossed my arms and sat back in the chair, jutting out my chin.

“Add that to the contract. Any interest that accumulates will be converted into time and will be added onto the ten years she must work for me.”

“Okay. Any particular rate of interest?”

“How about three percent monthly?”

Canterbury turned to me. “Does that seem fair?”

Whittier lost it and stood as he started shouting. “It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t think it’s fair! She has the opportunity to sign the fucking thing now as is!”

As he began pacing across the room, I stole a glance at the lawyer, somehow comforted by the fact that he, too, didn’t appreciate the outburst. Before he could look my way, though, Whittier was back at the table leaning over.

His face was close to mine. “Three percent interest is generous on my part. And, for your information, one month’s interest would be equal to about a year’s worth of work. So go ahead and drag your feet. It makes no difference to me.”

Oh, but it did. He wouldn’t be so angry if it didn’t. “You want to rule every single thing about my life. For ten years! I think I should have a little say in what I can and can’t do.”

“You still have the option to return to Winchester and throw yourself at the mercy of the court. Will you sign or not?”

“I will not.”

“Then get out of my sight.”

Canterbury looked like he wanted to say something—but, like me, he probably thought it best to say nothing at all.

Chapter 13

I sent a text message to my father on my once-again fully charged phone. I’d wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t trust myself to not start crying as soon as I heard his voice. I simply said, It’s been a long, hard day, dad, but I wanted you to know I’m okay. I’m probably going to bed in a few minutes. How has your day been?

I wasn’t lying. I was so tired, I knew I could go to bed and sleep till morning, even though the sun was still shining brightly outside. The only thing keeping me up now was pure adrenaline. But I couldn’t tell if it was caused by anger or fear—or a combination of both.

It was apparent to me that Sinclair Whittier had never been told no throughout his life—so he needed to get used to the likes of me. Although I knew if I had to that I could abide by all the terms of the contract, I was digging in my heels as a matter of principle. I didn’t like being treated like a piece of property.

I sat on the bed, looking through the window outside, again mourning all I’d lost. I could hardly believe that this time the day before I was picking up the programs at the print shop, completely unaware that my fate had quite possibly already been set in motion.

My dad sent a short text that he was okay but tired, getting ready to microwave his dinner.

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