Every meal you refuse US another day n your room. Choose wisely, kotyonok. I flushed the note down the toilet. And then, I refused lunch. Yulia shoved another piece of paper at me. I can only assume my pet wants me to handhel kes But just So youre aware, the thought of my fingers in your mouth makes me hard. I ate the next meal. Hours passed in this bedroom with nothing to do or watch except for the homemade porn on the TV. I washed my single item of clothing in the bathroom sink with a bar of soap and showered more often than necessary due to sheer boredom—and maybe with the small vendetta to skyrocket Ronan’s water bill in retaliation. Soon, I realized solitude was the worst torture. Dwelling on my feelings of doubt especially. I wondered if my papa was responsible for that boy’s death, and if so, whether I would turn my back on him for it. I clearly wasn’t the honorable person I aimed to be because I didn’t think I could. The truth was, love was self-serving. A greedy monster without morals, corrupting my most basic principles. Loyalty came hand in hand, tightly gripping my throat. My thoughts and the walls closed in further each day. I tapped on the glass again, drawing a look and a twitching nose from my furry friend. “I guess it’s just you and me, buddy,” I whispered. And then an eagle swooped from the sky, his claws extended, taking off with my rabbit and leaving nothing behind but a wasteland of snow.