I am Aria Monroe, and believe it or not, I turned eighteen yesterday. But my birthday was no celebration. No cake and candles for me, but instead I simply sat with Amelia, my one friend and kin, on the cold cement of our prison cell, tied up.
Yes, I am a slave. I've lived this way since I was fifteen years old.
I don't know where my real family is. Are they alive? Dead? Honestly, I stopped caring long ago. The day they sold me to hell, they disappeared from my heart. I erased them like they erased me. Now I am left with Amelia.
"Aria," Amelia panted beside me, her voice trembling a little, low but persistent. She was crouched in on herself, knees to chest, shivering.
Shivering out of my daze, I asked, "Yeah?" as I heaved myself up, my muscles protesting the frigid stone floor.
"You're thinking again, aren't you?" she answered, her brown eyes scanning my face, worry set on her features.I attempted a weak smile. "Always. It's me. But don't worry. I wasn't crying over my family. Just… planning."
Her brow rose. "Planning?""Yup. Planning how to escape from this rotting cell," I panted. "With you."Her lips curled into a tentative smile as she grasped my hand. "You've been saying that for years, Aria."
"And someday, I'll finally get it together," I vowed, squeezing her fingers. "I won't leave you behind."She didn't get a chance to answer before the sound of the heavy boots of a guard clomping down the corridor startled us. His shadow fell across our bars.
It was him—the one I hated the most. Always criticizing me for something. Always searching for a reason to lash out. I never even took the trouble to learn his name. His very existence made me sick.
He sneered, his eyes scanning me for a moment too long. "Monroe. Still alive? What a shame."I held his stare for a split second before looking down, biting back my anger. Not now. Someday, I'd give him a taste of his own medicine.The silence broke with a loud clang of a bell.Amelia flinched. "Bath time," she murmured, unsteady as she got to her feet.
We emerged from the cells, two crooked lines. Unwashed stink hung in the air, mixed with the biting odor of rust and mildew. Our rags were hard and scratchy, caked in muck. I didn't know how long it was since I had worn clean clothes, eaten real food, or felt warm water on my skin.
"Aria," Amelia tugged at my arm."What?" I growled, looking at the floor."Don't look up. Just… don't."
Confused, I dared to peek about and then understood.Down the hallway was Leonard, the master of this pit. The owner of us all. His polished boots glowed like a beacon against our filth, and his cane struck once upon the floor, forcing silence.
The air grew heavy. No one dared breathe too deeply.Leonard hated to be looked at directly. Anyone dumb enough to look him in the eye was dragged off to the punishment room. Few came back, and those who did were different.
I lowered my eyes, my fists clenched tight. I ached to challenge him, glare him down, but Amelia's grasp on my arm stopped me.
"Keep your head down," she said softly, barely moving her lips."Why?" I demanded, still staring at the shattered floor."Because Clara—do you recall her?—gazed at him for one second. The next morning, they removed her. She has not returned." Her voice was shaking in terror.
My throat constricted, but I put on a smile. "Maybe she escaped."Amelia shook her head vehemently. "No one escapes Leonard.""Well, I'll be the first," I muttered under my breath.
One of the guards overheard and rapped his baton against the bars. "Quiet!"Amelia gasped, pulling me in closer. "Aria, don't provoke them!"I breathed close to a whisper. "Fear is what keeps them in power. If I let it, I'm dead already."
She looked at me with hurt and admiration. "And if you push them too far, you'll be dead.""At least I won't be dying on my knees," I snapped back softly.
We moved forward, the ankle chains jingling in a death pace. Leonard's gaze cut through us like a knife, a sadistic smile spreading across his face.
"Good little cattle," he said smoothly, his voice echoing down the corridor. "March, bathe, work. Obey, and live another day."
The guards growled orders, shoving us toward the wash quarters. My heart raced, but I kept my head down. For now.
But at the back of my mind, there was a single seething thought.One day, Leonard. One day, I'll make you swallow your own power.And on the day that it happens, Amelia and I will be free.