I lay down on the cold concrete, wrapping my arms around myself to stop the shivering.

Hours passed in total silence.

I listened to the faint dripping of water somewhere in the walls.

Every sound made my heart leap.

I kept picturing Adrian’s face, the gray eyes that had always looked at me with so much warmth.

Now those eyes would be cold, focused on survival.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps on the stairs outside.

They were light and fast, not like the heavy tread of the guards.

The iron bolt slid back.

The door creaked open, throwing a shaft of yellow light into the room.

A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the hall light.

It was not a guard.

It was Camille.

She stepped into the cellar and closed the door behind her, holding a flashlight.

The bright beam hit my eyes, making me squint.

“Get up,” Camille said, her voice sharp.

I did not move. “What do you want, Camille?”

She walked closer, her expensive leather boots clicking on the concrete.

“I want to make sure you understand your place,” she said.