Melany's POVThree nights.I ate. I bathed. I slept... and hated myself for all of it. Because every time I swallowed something sweet, I thought of the girls who weren’t given crumbs. Every time I sank into that too-soft mattress, I remembered what stone floors felt like and sleeping curled under tables.But the East Wing never slept.Each night, I lay awake, the sheets pulled up to my chest, listening for the sound I was now sure would come. Just after the guards did their rounds, a soft knock, then, a girl’s voice. “I am ready.”I’d told myself to stop listening, but tonight, when I heard a knock, slow steps, the quiet crack of a door opening, I stood up, crept to the door, pressed my ear against the wood, and waited.“Ready, sweetheart?” the guard asked.“Yes, of course. I... I heard he prefers when we do not speak unless spoken to. Is that true?”He chuckled under his breath. “Depends on the night. But stay quiet and you’ll be fine.”“I’ve been waiting my turn,” she added, softer
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