Page 26 of The Dancer and the Masks (Their Obsession 1)

“My mother. She died.”

“I’m sorry…” Her voice trails off as she frowns. “You’ve suffered before… I wonder if they know.”

“If The Masks know? Would it make a difference if they did?”

She doesn’t answer, instead she passes me a facecloth. “For your face... I can wash your hair if you’d like. It feels so much better if someone else does it, don’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve always managed to clean myself.”

Her cheeks redden. “Of course you have. Sorry. My grandfather has told me that I must be willing to do everything I can to make your stay here comfortable. He’s trusting me with your care.”

“Comfortable? We both know that isn’t how it’s going to be for me, despite this moment of reprieve. Can you tell me what’s going to happen, Nala? Who are the Numbers? Are they prisoners like me?”

She shakes her head. “It isn’t my place to say. Ican’ttell you. But if there’s anything else that you need, I’ll do my best to ensure you get it, provided it doesn’t break any rules, of course.”

“How about a helicopter out of here?”

“I meant like your favourite food, or drink, maybe a book? We have a huge library in the eastern wing of the castle...”

“What about a mobile phone, a computer?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“If I wrote a letter home promising not to tell where I am, would you send it for me?”

“Thisis your home.”

I don’t bother to argue. Instead, I dip the washcloth into the milky water. She expects me to wash, and will wait until I’ve cleaned every inch of skin as she’s been ordered to do, which means that I can’t avoid cleaning my face. My heart sinks. So much for keeping my mask in place. “There is one thing I need…” I say, taking a chance, and hoping she’ll keep to her promise.

“What is it?”

“I need some foundation for my skin.”

She frowns. “You wish to cover the scars on your back…?”

“No. There isn’t enough foundation in the world to help with those scars. I wish to cover up this,” I say, placing the washcloth over my face and scrubbing at the thick makeup before revealing what I’ve managed to hide so far.

Her eyes widen, and her mouth pops open in shock. “Oh…” Her voice trails off as she struggles to find the right words to say.

“I’m not as perfect as Konrad thinks, and I’m not sure he’d be all thatkindto me if he saw what I truly looked like. I’m far from beautiful, as you can see. I don’t even want to know how the others would react, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t be all that positive.”

“No, perhaps not,” Nala admits. “I just don’t know if…”

“What?” I ask, cutting her off. “Would helping me with this go against their rules?”

“Not exactly. It’s just…” She sighs, frowning.

“Maybe bombarding them with all my flaws all at once wouldn’t be wise. Better to let them become accustomed to me bit by bit?” I suggest, hating every word coming out of my mouth but needing to persuade her to help me. I need to cover up my birthmark if I’m to remain strong. I need to become someone else if I’m to survive this place and these men.

“Okay,” she nods. “Six has a similar complexion to you. Give me a couple of minutes. I’ll go fetch some foundation from her room. I’ll be back.”

“Six?”

Nala nods. “Yes. She’s nice. You’ll like her.”

“You mean I’m going to meet her?”

“This is your home now, and the Numbers will be sharing it with you. Of course you’ll get to meet them,” Nala explains.

“Them? How many are there?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve…? So I’m one of them now…”

“No. You’reZero. You’re here in The Masks’ quarters. You’redifferent.” With that she squeezes my arm and rushes from the room, leaving me pondering why, if I’m so different, have I been named after a number as well.

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