The Chateau (Chateau 1)

She lifted her gaze and looked at me. “Raven, that’s just my guess. I really don’t know—and I wouldn’t gamble your life on it.”

Whenever I was in my cabin, there was nothing to do but wait until morning. There were no books for entertainment, so I spent most of my time soaking in the tub, just to get warm and try to relax.

The only entertainment I had was my thoughts—which made me feel worse.

I’d only been in the camp for about a week, and unless the weather was different, it felt like the same day over and over again. We went to those tables and bagged the coke. It seemed like the women at different tables were bagging different amounts, as if they already had a clientele that wanted specific amounts on a subscription basis. My job was to stand and watch, deliver a new box, and stand and watch again.

My mind used to be entertained by classic fiction, dissecting iconic literary heroes, thinking about their actions and the repercussions those had across time, their fictitious lines reverberating into the present. Those long papers I used to write late into the night. I loathed them and now it sounded like a vacation. I missed my laptop, the mug of coffee beside me, the view outside my window of the most beautiful city in the world.

All of that was taken from me.

The little things we took for granted.

Now I was just…existing.

I sat up in bed and waited for my dinner to be delivered, not even having a window to look through. I stared at my feet most of the time, wiggling my toes and watching them move through the socks.

The door unlocked, and the women set the food on the chair. She darted out again.

The guard entered, the same man who always came to visit me. With his face hidden inside that hood, his identity was obscured, but I recognized his movements, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he carried himself. He always entered my cabin like he owned the place. “You like Italian?”

With my arms crossed over my chest, I just glared.

He picked up the tray and set it on the bed beside me. “You’re getting good food, so you must be behaving yourself.” He stood over me, looking down at me.

I turned away, severing the eye contact I couldn’t actually make.

He moved to the chair and took a seat.

Social isolation was suffocating, but no amount of distance would make me want to converse with a guard. It was probably part of their brainwashing technique, to make you grow attached to the man who locked your door every night since you had no one else. “I prefer to eat without company.”

“Same.” The chair looked too small for him based on the way he covered it entirely. He leaned back, his boots planted against the floor, and he crossed his muscular arms over his chest, his hood covering most of his face, but some of his chin was visible because of the light.

“Then you can go.”

He didn’t move.

I pulled the tray to me and ate, because I didn’t want it to get cold before I enjoyed it. Food was one of the few things I had to look forward to, and their meals were actually pretty good. They purposely made us nutritional meals so we could work harder and pack their coke. I bit into a piece of garlic bread and kept my eyes down on my plate.

“You did good this week.”

Since all I wanted to do was snap back, I didn’t say anything.

“I thought it would take longer, honestly.”

I held my tongue and continued to eat. Being defiant wouldn’t get me anywhere, would only bring me closer to death, and even fighting my guard wouldn’t do me any favors. My focus should be on escaping, getting information to do that, and then solidifying a plan—and getting to my sister. “You said good behavior is rewarded.”

“It is.” A deep voice came from the hood, his chin moving slightly as he spoke. There was a shadow across his jaw, over his chin before it disappeared under the hood. His skin was fair, the limited amount I could see. “You want a book? Coke?”

Did women actually ask for that? A book would be nice, something to distract my thoughts while I was stuck in this cabin waiting for the sun to rise the next morning. We worked until dark, so there were several hours before bed that needed to be wasted. “I want my sister.” I abandoned my dinner and looked at him, even though I’d never be able to see those eyes, to see the reactions I relied on when conversing with another person.

He was still, so quiet it seemed like he didn’t hear a word I said.

“I want us to be in the same cabin.” I wanted to assuage her fears, to promise her that I would get her out of here, that there was so much left to live for…and we had to keep going. I knew her so well, and I imagined she was crying herself to sleep at night, overwhelmed with the guilt that she carried on those small shoulders.