Chapter Fifteen ~ The Cry of a Primrose ~ Part One

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Chapter Fifteen ~ The Cry of a Primrose ~ Part One

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Rose's POV

I wished I could see him.

The thought swirled around my head as I scrubbed the wooden steps. My old brown dress already had holes and stains. I brushed my hand over my forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat, and pushing my greasy hair to the side.

For the past two days, we were worked to the bone with minimal rest and food. But at least we had each other. We were placed in a tiny room with one cot and a flimsy cover that didn't cover all of us. Prim and I huddled for warmth, and we gave Lily the blanket.

Lily had grown really pale over the past few days, and I was worried she was sick. I couldn't even stomach the thought of her dying because we were unable to provide her with any medicine.

Maybe I'd ask Mr. Ga- My thoughts cut short and I shook my head. I'd probably dig an even bigger grave for all of us. But perhaps it was worth it just to make sure Lily was okay.

Mr. Gales's home was extravagant, with sleek wooden floors covered in Persian rugs, radiant chandeliers that hung in each room, and mahogany-colored walls that made the rooms look even more elegant.

I've only seen glimpses of Mr. Gale in the past few days, as we were under the control of his mistress, Madeline. Madeline was green with jealousy when we arrived and was quite possessive of her man or rather her man's money.

When she realized we were here to pay a debt, something inside of her flipped, and she began treating us like disgusting filth on the back of her shoe. The only reason why I was scrubbing the steps was because she insisted they needed a thorough cleaning.

Fantastic.

My shoulders ached painfully when I finally reached the top, and I threw the scrub into the dirty bucket. I sighed, my thoughts slowly going back to father. It still hurt to think about him, but the pain was manageable. So was the idea of not seeing Nikolai ever again. Or so I liked to believe.

Maybe instead of hurting, I was dying slowly, and one day I'd cease to feel anything because I'd be dead.

I shook my head from the thought. Like hell, I would leave my siblings to this wicked mistress.

I heard footsteps behind me and I turned to see the she-devil herself. She wore a dark green gown that was decorated with white lace around the waist. The sleeves dropped over her hands, and she wore a red emerald necklace around her neck. Her hair was tied in a tight bun, and her piercing blue eyes narrowed when the met my brown ones.

Think of the demon and it'll appear.

"What are you doing?" she snapped, walking towards me. I sat up straight, clasping my hands together, and lowered my gaze.

"Just finishing up the steps, ma'am," I told her.

I hoped she would slip on them.

"No, you're not," she said, and I looked up at her in confusion.

She then kicked the bucket full of dirty water, and I watched as it splashed the once clean stairs with grime and filth.

I stared at the stairs in shock, my bottom lip trembling. I worked so hard on scrubbing it clean. My whole entire body hurts. Why was this happening? Was this really happening?

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