Nathaniel—still hiding behind Harold’s name—hesitated only briefly. I searched his face for the man who once protected me, the one who promised never to let anyone hurt me.
Instead, he murmured, “It’s better this way. She needs to cool off.”
Something inside my chest collapsed.
Two employees seized my arms. I fought, twisting wildly, my screams echoing down the hall. “Please! I didn’t do anything! You can’t do this!” But I was nothing to them. Just another problem to be removed.
The door slammed shut behind me, plunging me into darkness.
The basement reeked of rot and damp stone. My feet slid over gritty concrete, then over something soft that scurried away. The sound of insects skittering made my skin crawl. Somewhere close, a rat shrieked.
I pressed my back against the wall, hugging myself, shaking so hard my teeth rattled.
Then pain exploded in my ankle.
I looked down just in time to glimpse a thick coil sliding away into the shadows.
I don’t remember falling. Only screaming.
When I opened my eyes again, the world smelled of disinfectant. A nurse hovered over me, her voice calm.
“You’re fortunate,” she said. “It was a venomous bite. If you’d arrived any later, it could’ve been fatal.”
My lips were dry as sand. “How did I get here?”
“The butler called emergency services,” she replied. “But you need to rest.”
Rest. After being tossed into a basement like garbage.
I scanned the room for any familiar face, but she answered my question before I could ask.
“No one has visited you.”
By the time I was released, my body was weak but my resolve was solid. I would never go back to that house and bow my head again.
At the gate, the butler was waiting.
“They’re all attending an auction tonight, ma’am,” he said stiffly.
“Auction?”
“Yes. Miss Delilah is hosting a charity event.”
Charity. I nearly laughed out loud.
The hall buzzed with perfume, gossip, and money. Crystal chandeliers shimmered above crowds wrapped in silk and diamonds. Onstage, Delilah stood radiant in red, smiling into a microphone as one of her paintings was wheeled out.
“This is my most meaningful work,” she said sweetly. “I hope someone here will treasure it.”
Bids flew. Numbers soared. She basked in admiration.
But I was done letting her have the spotlight.
I walked forward, heels striking the marble, and took the microphone from the startled auctioneer.