“The snowdrops are pushing up through the ground, and soon it’ll be spring. The snow will melt, and the birds will sing again. The world will wake up, and your daughter will visit you.”
What was I doing?
I sighed, and my breath puffed out in a cloud of white. Damn, it was cold here. Cold and dead. All of it.
I straightened up and took a step back, about to leave.
“She thinks about you all the time. Just so you know. And she loved you to the end... and beyond.”
Okay. Enough. I didn’t know if I was talking about Katarina and her mother now, or me and mine. Maybe all the women who had been beaten down and forgotten by the world.
My emotions volatile and restless, I turned away from the neglected grave in the tiny cemetery.
Yes, I was breaking all my rules here at Hallow Hall, but I didn’t care.
Those fuckers all deserved to pay... and I was here to make them.
And I’d enjoy every second.
16
KATARINA
The next day passed in excruciating slow motion. I slept as late as I could, knowing it was one of the only ways to pass the time more quickly. However, the harsh overhead fluorescents blinked on at seven-thirtya.m.and didn’t go off until seven-thirtyp.m.
Food was delivered three times. No avoiding the mystery meat this time, so I didn’t bother eating. I was used to an empty stomach.
Instead, I focused on the snowdrops.
I’d never had something to look at except my own hands in solitary before.
It was an unexpected gift. The best one I’d ever had.
I found a million things to observe about the perfect flowers. The different layers of the blossoms, the way the colors varied and blended into each other between the stalk and into the head of the bloom. The tiny striations inside the velvet, nearly transparent petals. A network of veins running just below the surface. It was fascinating.
I was still enamored with them when the second full day of solitary came to an end. My stomach was a hollow cavern. When a knock at the door sounded, I was resigned to the fact that I’d have to finally eat the disgusting lump of meat and powdered potatoes that would be dinner. But then Dr. Blackwood walked in.
Hope jumped in my chest. Was I done? I rushed to my feet, swaying a little as a wave of dizziness hit me.Whoa.I needed to eat.
“Sit down, Katarina, I’m just here to talk.”
Disappointment filled me. I had already hidden my bunch of wilting snowdrops in my pocket, luckily, so I curled my empty hands into fists and sat gingerly on the edge of the metal cot in the corner.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Okay. Bored. What else would I feel here?”
“And your medication? You’ve been taking it on schedule?”
I nodded, holding my tongue. I had no idea what Massimo had done, but no one had given me medication in solitary, something Dr. Blackwood seemed to have no idea about.
“Tell me, are you expecting visitors this weekend?”
I stared at him, wondering what answer he was looking for. Was he testing my memory to see if I had really been taking my medicine?
“I-I don’t really know,” I murmured, recalling exactly how it had felt to really not know. The confusion I’d lived in constantly when my medication schedule had been consistent felt like a bad dream.
“No? How about when you think of Hallow Hall and how you came to be here?”