Page 36 of Dance with Death

That’s all I know and all I care to know.

I’d belonged to Nikolai for three goddamn years. I’d left my childish misbeliefs about personal liberty behind long before these young women could even dream of the vileness of slavery.

I’m sure both women think I’m a cynical bitch for the way I scoff at their discussions of escape, for the way I balk at their sobbing fear and hopeful camaraderie. But I can’t afford to lose myself again in caring for another slave’s well-being, and Irefuseto form any sort of attachment to these women.

Perhaps I’ve too easily accepted my fate, too easily given into the idea that I will be a slave for the remainder of my life.

Except…I know that I’m right.

The dark men are everywhere, and they own us—it’s an epitaph written on the gravestones of women everywhere before they are even born into this world. The four families have a vast, worldwide reach, but they aren’t the only ones who do this.

I wish it weren’t true, but I know that it is. I have to survive it on my own.

“Anya?” the brunette in the middle box whispers to me.

Her palm is pressed to the plexiglass that connects our boxes as she sits on the floor.

I know her name is Bianca, but I don’t let myself think of her as anything other than the brunette girl in the middle box. Connecting with another human being is what got me into this mess in the first place.

“What?” I reply, trying all at once to sound calm, but also as if I don’t care that much to respond.

“If the three of us work together, I really think we can come up with a plan to—”

“No,” I interrupt her with a forceful and determined answer.

“Why? Why won’t you help us?”

“I promise you, escape from this is not possible. There’s only survival or death. The sooner you accept that fate, the better off you’ll be for it.”

The girl shakes her head at me before turning to face the other direction, but I have one last thing to say to her.

“Hope is dangerous.”

“It’snot,” she snaps back at me. “Hope is all we have. And if we just work together—”

I turn my head sharply to the side to look at her. “And if we just work together, then what? Do you know how to get out of this box? Even if you did, what would you have us do then? The metal door at the top of the stairs is locked from the outside.”

Bianca opens her mouth to interject, but I keep going, pushing up from my prone position to lean back on my elbows, “Let’s say, by some miracle, you get through it. Do you think you’re just going to run off into the night?” I scoff. “Where will you go? How will you get off this island? You do know the only way on or off is by helicopter, right? What, do you plan to fling yourself off one of the massive cliffs and hope you don’t bounce off a rock on the way down? Even if you didn’t die from the fall alone, do you honestly think you could swim to safety?”

“I don’t know, but—”

My eyes narrow on her. I know my building frustration is entirely misplaced, but it doesn’t stop me. “Right. You don’t know. It’s not something we’re going to figure out. Not on our own and not together. If you keep hoping there’s a way out, it’s only going to hurt more when you realize there isn’t. This isitfor us.”

She mumbles something that sounds like, “Selfish bitch,” before she turns her body away from me.

I internally flinch at the name calling, but I don’t let it show. I just look away from her and lay back down, getting right back to my kicks and stretches. It’s not the first time another girl has called me a bitch. I wasn’t exactly the warmest or friendliest of people before my captivity and I’ve only grown colder over the years.

Ezra thawed me. It was tropical paradise when I was with him, but I’ve become arctic cold again. It’s the way I have to be to protect myself. I have to shove any understanding or sympathy for these girls aside so I can focus on myself.

Ihaveto.

It’s the only way to survive.

I didn’t have the means to pay the price of hoping for something better.

Entrechat. Pirouette.

Entrechat. Pirouette.

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