Chapter 5

Zara carefully pushes open the door to Mila’s room. The soft glow from a bedside lamp barely illuminates the bed or the few strands of dark hair peeking out from under a blanket.

"Mimi, are you awake?" She whispers, not wanting to wake her cousin in case she is sleeping and also so she couldn’t bring attention to herself being in Mila’s room.

Her uncle prefers for them to suffer in isolation after he administers one of his punishments, although it is unlikely that he would come to this wing of the house so late at night.

Zara carefully sits down on the edge of the bed, freezing when she hears a low moan. She pulls the blanket back and can't stop a shocked gasp at the sight before her.

Mila is lying on her side curled up into a ball, face tear streaked and covered in bruises. Her upper arms show welts and the wrists purple handprints. Her lip is split, one eye almost swollen shut and her breathing comes out in ragged gasps.

Slowly, so slowly Zara lifts the hem of the t-shirt to uncover skin that is showing a purple shoe print. She wants to touch, to soothe but knows from experience that it will only cause more agony.

"What about your back? Is it bad?"

All she gets is a little nod. She carefully pats Mila’s hair and gets up to fetch a bowl of warm water and the first aid kid from the en-suite bathroom.

After so many years they have a routine. Clean up first, then bandages and painkillers, snuggles if possible and then eventually one will talk and the other will listen.

It takes her almost thirty minutes to wash her cousin, put ointment on the bruises and maneuver her into a clean t-shirt and pair of shorts.

"It might be better if I sleep in my own room tonight, it’ll only hurt more if I roll into you during the night."

"Stay, don't go." Mila’s voice is full of tears and Zara hasn't the heart to leave her alone.

"Okay, just give me a couple of minutes, I have to take out the contact lenses, I’ll be back right away. Do you want some tea?" she asks, brushing a strand of hair out of Mila’s face.

"No, just don't be too long."

Barely five minutes have passed when Zara carefully slides into bed next to her cousin, not touching her body, only holding her hand. They would both have preferred to cuddle but know that it will be too painful."How did it go tonight? Sorry I couldn't be there." Milla says in a voice laced with pain and tiredness.

"Awful. He paraded me around like a cow in a market, I felt like I had a price tag on my back. So it was no worse than usual."

Milla squeezes her hand and she rolls the eye that isn’t swollen shut.

"How old was today's potential groom?"

"He introduced me to Alpha Karson Monroe." There is the tiniest wobble in Zara’s voice.

"How did it go?" Milla seems to perk up a little at the mention of the alpha’s name. She knows that Zara has been habouring a crush on him for some time.

"Never meet your heroes."

Milla’s eyes open wide to stare at her and Zara gives her a sad little smile. she can't talk about the encounter just yet, not even with her best friend. To think that she admired someone, if only from afar, who turned out to be a person that speaks about omegas with such disdain. Competitors and business partners alike have such high opinions of the alpha. He was the darling of the business world, hard but fair, with impeccable manners.

Zara has seen or rather heard none of that tonight. And for reasons she doesn't want to delve into at the moment she felt crushed by the words she overheard about herself earlier that evening. Not because she didn’t think that a lot of what had been said wasn't true, at least on the surface. It was more because she had expected that Karson would be one of the few people to look beneath the veneer and reserve judgment until he knows more about a person.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, it’s not worth it. Besides, it was just a silly crush. Childish, really. Better that it’s over."

They lay there for a while, just holding hands, not talking until Zara is slowly nodding off.

Her eyes snap open when Milla suddenly says: "I didn't go to accounting lessons."

Zara only looks at her, not saying anything, just waiting.

"Took dancing lessons instead, they were in the same building so it could have worked."she gives a dry little chuckle. "It worked long enough anyway, almost four months."

"How did he find out?" They both know who Zara is talking about.

"The new driver saw me coming out of the entrance next to the boxing gym and reported dutifully. Fucking asshole." The venom in Milla’s voice is muted due to tiredness.

"I'm so sorry, Mimi." Zara strokes her hand although she would have rather hugged her

"I was on borrowed time, like always. But tiger, it was worth it. The dance crew - they’re all so good, so talented. They didn't even care who I was. I learned so much from them and I loved it." The pain in Milla’s voice gives way to excitement as she describes the dance moves and choreographies she has learned.

"One day we’ll get out, like we always said we would. You can dance and I can paint all I want, we’ll have a small apartment somewhere and eat cheap ramen all day." carefully Zara rests her cool hand on Milla’s bruised cheek.

"I can probably finish another painting in the next couple of weeks and hopefully it will sell.

Just hang on until then." Zara doesn't want to make a promise she might not be able to keep, but he feels Milla needs something to look forward to.

They stare at each other, wanting to believe so much that the day will come where they can get away from this house, this life that is no life at all.

"You should have told me, I would have helped." There is no reproach in Zara’s voice.

"If you don't know he can't beat it out of you." Milla sounds matter of fact. She knows that

Zara understands. They have learned that lesson the hard way as kids. Samuel Hartman had quickly realized that he would get more information out of them if he put the cousins against each other. Neither of them care too much about the physical harm they suffer themselves but would do anything to protect the other.

"Was it worth it?" That, too, is asked without judgment. It is merely a risk-return question, because over the years not every attempt at rebellion or trying to make a dream come true had been worth the price they paid.

"It's all I ever thought it would be. This dancer named Amir runs the studio, he teaches hip hop and some modern dance. His choreographies are insane, really hard but once you get the hang of it, it's like you're boneless."

Milla sounds so excited and happy that Zara’s heart aches. Like so often she wishes that they could have a normal life, born into a family that encouraged their talents and dreams, to have loving parents to listen attentively when they tell them about the things they are interested in. To not be punished for every small perceived mistake, or beaten until they are so weak that they cannot even care for themselves.

"I won’t be able to tell Amir how much his dancing lessons meant to me. I really wish I could. He should know what a good teacher he is."

There and then Zara silently promises that one day they will escape, no matter what mountains he has to move or obstacles she has to overcome