"We have such a good life now—blessed by fate, really. Would it kill you to do something kind? Build some good karma?"
Blessed by fate?
I nearly laughed out loud.
There's no fate. No blessing. I traded my life for yours.
I looked at Orson's self-righteous face, and the last ripple of feeling in my heart went still.
"Fine."
I nodded.
"Since her constitution is so delicate, let her have it."
"But Orson—remember this."
"Some positions, once surrendered, can never be reclaimed."
Orson's brow furrowed. He seemed to sense something beneath my words, but Willow's wheedling voice quickly pulled his attention away.
"Orson, baby, I want a big soaking tub in the master bath—one of those ones with massage jets..."
"Done! Whatever you want!"
I dragged my suitcase into the damp, windowless storage room.
The door clicked shut, sealing away their laughter.
[Deprivation Progress: 40%]
[Orson Gilbert's fortune is draining rapidly. Host, starting tonight, his sleep quality will plummet. Nightmares will plague him.]
I made up the narrow cot and lay down on the unforgiving boards.
"Perfect."
"Let him get acquainted with nightmares first. Consider it... preparation for his future."