“Why can’t I see you?”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment.

“You need to stop questioning me,” he says, and I feel him stand. “I understand your confusion, but you need to start behaving as the other girls behave or I cannot continue to be kind to you, Number Thirteen.”

“That’s not my name,” I scream. “And you’re hardly nice!”

“It’s time to go,” he says simply.

“God damn you—”

“Do as you’re told, Number Thirteen,” he growls, cutting me off.

Feeling my lip beginning to tremble, I stand, and let him turn and lead me to the door. I feel the guard take me into his grasp, and I hear William mutter, “Move Number Eleven to the basement, replace her with Number Five.”

“Yes sir.”

Just before he leads me away, I whisper in a small voice, “Trust is a two-way street, William.”

He makes a strange, throaty sound, but I just keep my head down and let the guard lead me away s lem.̶.

I have nothing more to say.

CHAPTER TWELVE

WILLIAM

“How do you wish Number Eleven to be punished, sir?”

I watch the camera recordings, noting how Number Eleven continually bullies Number Thirteen. Someone like her isn’t going to respond well to being struck. She’s too sure of herself—too sure that she knows everything. A girl like her will merely grunt at getting the belt. She needs something worse, something that will hurt her, affect her, show her that she is not the boss in this home, and that she has no right to bully the other girls.

“She will join Number Thirteen tonight, and she will do everything Number Thirteen asks. In front of all the others. She will be her slave to do as she pleases for a full twenty-four hours. You need to watch, and be sure she does as she’s told.”

George nods. “Yes, sir, very clever.”

“There is a punishment for each act, some different than the others. They are all thought up accordingly, and this, I believe, fits just right.”

“Yes, sir, it does.”

“That is all, George.”

“Thank you, I’ll have this sorted. Do you need your suit prepared for this evening?”

“No, it’s done. It’s masquerade, so don’t forget the masks.”

“Yes, I have them all ready. Which girls have you decided will be serving the meal?”

I stare at the screens again, and a smile curls on my lips.

“Number Thirteen and her group will serve the meals.”

“Are you sure about that, sir?”

“Very sure.”

“She broke this afternoon. She’s not in the right frame of mind, and...”

“She needs to learn how we work around here. If she misbehaves, she will be punished again. If she does a good job, she’s going to be rewarded. The only way to teach them, George, is to let them make their own mistakes.”

“It’s a risk, sir.”

“It’s one I’m willing to take. That is all.”

George nods, and exits the room. I lean back in my chair. Slowly, these girls will learn the lesson I’m so simply trying to teach them.

They are making her my slave. My head spins as I stare at her, Number Eleven, openly glaring at me.

I don’t understand what kind of sick game the master is playing, but this isn’t something I want. I’m not that person. I may not know a lot about myself, but I know enough to know that I will not order another person around against their will. How can I allow myself to become him? That’s not right, none of this is...but I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to the girl standing in front of me who is shooting a glare so malicious it has my skin tingling.

“Um,” I begin, lifting a golden strand of my hair into my fingers and twirling it. “Please just help me in the kitchen, without anger and fighting. I know why you dislike me, Number Eleven, but there’s no need for it. I’m here, I don’t know why I’m here, and that doesn’t make me a bad person. It certainly doesn’t make me a freak. Do yo s

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she stares at me for so long I’m sure she’s about to burst out laughing and tell me to go and ‘screw’ myself. Instead, her face softens just a touch, and she nods.

Pride swells in my chest.

“Then let’s go,” I say, without adding anymore.

We make our way back to the kitchen, and begin preparing the food quickly and efficiently, only this time there are no angry words or shoving. When we’ve got the first round prepared and ready for when the guests arrive, we begin working on getting the main meals into the oven. Bill walks in just as the afternoon is sliding into the evening.

“Number Thirteen,” he says, nodding at me.

I stop what I’m doing, and walk over, standing in front of him.

“The master wishes to reward you for your impeccable behavior with Number Eleven earlier. He’s allowing you a moment of trust. If you take it, you’ll slowly begin earning more. If you screw this up, then you will be punished, and there will never be anymore chances for you or your group to earn your place again.”

A moment of trust?

I nod at Bill, desperate to hear what he’s about to say. Oddly, I’m desperate to please Master William. I shove that feeling down, not entirely sure why I would need to impress a man I despise.

“You and your group will be serving tonight. You’ll be responsible for their behavior. If one word is spoken about this situation, as I said, you will be punished, and you will sacrifice any chance you might have of earning any further trust.”