Page 320 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Chapter 68

Iwas thoroughly depressed. The only thing I could think about was how much of a shit I was, and how unlucky Reuben was to have to deal with me when he could have someone good and sweet. That morning after breakfast and my chores, I grabbed a pillow and sat on the floor under his desk, scrolling on my phone and trying to distract myself. It didn’t work. Even when he reached down and stroked my hair every few minutes, I still felt horrible. After a few hours of this, he sent me to The Weston House to hang out with some of the girls, thinking maybe it would cheer me up.

When I arrived, I found Becca sitting in the library with three of the newer girls. Becca smiled and greeted me by name and called me over. “This is Sarah, Isla, and Beatrix. Isla and Bea are sisters. Girls, this is Alice, Mister Weston’s submissive.”

We talked for a while about the crochet project that Sarah was working on. She tried to show me how to use the hook to make knots in the fabric, but it didn’t make much sense to me, and I kept forgetting what part of the stitch I was on. She smiled and took it back, pulling out my mistakes and working it back together.

Isla and Bea were a little younger than me, but not by much. They were talking about a beach trip they’d taken once as kids, and about how when they were little, they thought rubbing each other’s back protected you from the sun. They hadn’t worn sunscreen one day and ended up with terrible burns.

The conversation seemed to pause, hanging heavy in the air, like they both remembered something but didn’t want to say it. They looked at each other with haunted eyes. Isla swallowed. Bea took a breath like she was going to speak, and then let it out.

Whatever they were remembering, it wasn’t good.

“One time I went to the beach with my little sister,” I said. “Only we lived in the shittiest part of Florida, and the beach was basically a death trap for broken glass and used needles. So we weren’t allowed to take off our shoes, or get in the water, or play in the sand. It was a pretty shitty day, actually.”

“You’re from Florida?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, born and raised, until I ran off at sixteen.”

“My parents live in Florida.” She did a few more stitches, and then set her work down. “My dad sold me.”

Well, so much for breaking the tension. Guess I should just embrace the fact that everything I do and say around here is going to trigger someone.“Yeah, my dad had me serve his drug dealer. That’s why I ran away.”

Isla leaned her head against her sister’s shoulder. “We were kidnapped from Spring Break our Senior year of college. Parents said we should stay here until we were ready to ‘act like ourselves again.’”

“Well, that settles it,” I nodded. “Parents are shits.”

“Masters aren’t that much better.” Sarah was glaring at her crochet now. Her stitches had gotten more aggressive. She released a long breath and ripped out the stitches that she’d made too tight, and set the work down.

“Ours was okay,” Bea said. “He kept us together, at least. Until he died.”

Isla scoffed at her sister. “Oh yeah. He was great. When he wasn’t using us against each other.”

“No, I meant Master Krovak.”

“Oh. Yeah, he was okay.”

Becca sat silently, watching and listening.

I listened, too. They talked some more about their owners hurting them, making them hurt each other, and threatening to hurt the only family they had left. It made me sick.

But what really struck me was what Isla said. “I miss Master Korvak.”

“Yeah,” her sister agreed. “Me too.”

I couldn’t help but ask. “Why?”

---