“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” I replied. The poor thing was so small. Malnourished and way too skinny. She’d bruise easily because of it. I dropped the subject after that. The pain in her pretty green eyes looked too raw, too fresh for me to ask anything more about it. I should change the subject and ask her about something else.
“So, we have to disguise me, huh?” I suggested and the look of relief on her face was obvious.
“Yup! It’s likely your escape from Genwell will come to light once morning comes around and your red hair is pretty recognizable. It’s such a beautiful color but we’ll have to cover it up. Plus, your combat clothing isn’t exactly regulation,” she said.
“Regulation?”
“During the day when we can be seen by the guards, we have to wear the clothes we were given when we were admitted into the sanctuary. Gray pants and a simple gray shirt. Stupid polyester blend sports bra. Boring cotton underwear. All gray. Bland, scratchy, and cheap. We’re not supposed to have any of the things we have down here, but we’ve smuggled in many things over the years,” she replied.
“Has anyone ever been caught with something they weren’t supposed to have?” I asked and she nodded as her face fell.
“My friend Gemma. She was caught with a cotton t-shirt bra once. She was punished in front of all of us. The guards beat her, leaving scars all over her body. Ever since then, she’s never been the same. She stopped speaking altogether,” Ellie answered. Her eyes had turned stormy, angry, and haunted. She looked like she wanted to cry.
“Oh, Ellie,” I whispered, speechless.
I hadn’t realized just how bad it was here and tomorrow, I was going to see it all.
Ellie shook her shoulders and lifted her head, a fire in her eyes.
“Come on. Let’s get you changed. Tomorrow, I show you the sanctuary,” she replied.