Part 3
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
William Shakespeare
Chapter One
Branson
One year later
I do my best not to move or make a sound, something I’m exceptionally good at. Sweat drips down my back and my shoulders ache from standing here for so long, but bodily discomfort is nothing. My pain tolerance is exceedingly high now. I’ve tried so hard, but it's not enough anymore.
Teddy says I’m boring now.
I don’t try to be boring, I want to make her smile and have fun, but she says that isn’t the point. I don’t understand, but try harder, anyway. Maybe if I help and show them I can be a part of things, then it can be better.
I shift as subtly as I can, but Jane hisses at me, anyway. I don’t like working for Jane, but she’ll make me do bad things if I don’t.
“Stop moving!”
Ignoring my aching arm, I focus on my breathing and keep the leg held high while Jane attaches it. Before being torn up, the man must have been a giant because his thigh weighs a ton. Jane keeps stopping and leaving. I hear her talking to herself in the hall before she comes back in, so it’s taking a long time.
Down the corridor I hear a familiar sound, and my heart thumps loudly until she walks in. I want to greet her, but I know she hates that. She looks at Jane’s project with interest. When her eyes land on me with a look of disgust, I feel my heart crack even though it's a familiar ache.
I do everything she wants, always, and she hates me.
Self-loathing fills me, and I drop my head.
“What’s taking so fucking long?” Teddy demands, “It’s starting to fucking smell in here.”
Jane huffs. “No patience, child. Good art takes time.”
“I’m almost eighteen, hardly a child anymore. Besides, this looks like shit.”
Jane throws the leg we’re holding up and the sculpture snaps, fingers flying over the ground. I stay completely still.
“Look what you made me do!” Jane screeches at Teddy, reaching out and slapping her across the face.
Teddy lifts a hand to her face, watching Jane with pure shock written on her face. My own mouth hands open and I want to reach for her, to make sure she’s okay, but I don’t move a muscle. Jane’s chest heaves for a moment as she watches Teddy, her black eyes narrow slits. My body is frozen, waiting to see what happens. Jane stalks out of the room, leaving us alone.
I keep my head lowered, watching her through my lashes. Teddy watches after Jane with something akin to suspicion on her face, her cheek flaming red. I’d like to touch her, make her better, but she hasn’t asked me for that.
I think back to so long ago when I told her I’d never want her. Well, she proved me wrong and now, I can’t have her.
After a moment, Teddy turns back to me, looking over the mess now covering the floor. Her nose turns up in a wrinkle and I feel the corner of my mouth twitch at the gesture she’s been doing since she was a child.
“Clean this up,” she finally says to me, though her voice is missing its usual touch of anger. I nod and immediately begin picking up the pieces before deciding to take a risk and pausing.
“A-are you okay?” I ask her. She glares at me, saying nothing, before stomping off.
I watch after her, but not for long. Maybe if I clean up really fast and well, she’ll love me again.