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Chapter One
Aida
I stare out of theand watch the countryside roll by as we make our way back to my father’s estate The visit to see Lacy was a short one, just like all my approved visits are these days
I’ve never been told explicitly that my dad is involved in the criure out what all this extra security is about
We’re at war
It’s the only explanation as to why I wasn’t allowed to see Lacy foron the door, yelling to see if I was okay
Lacy’s face pinched up as though in disco taut and anxious I felt guilt niggling at h
She didn’t needthis trouble to her door
Whatever this trouble is, exactly
Hazy late-winter sunlight dances across the fields, glinting as it melts yesterday’s snow, the whole landscape covered in its winking light
The driver is one of my father’s men, his face fixed firirl how these men would make a fuss over me, talk to me openly and let me share in on their jokes to some extent
But these last few years, all of theh the moment I started to becoh or a smile
Now that I am a nineteen year old woman, they barely even look at ling his daughter
I hate it, not because I want to flirt or anything like that – I don’t, and anyway, I’ – but because it’s just so isolating and lonely
I sigh again, wondering if that’s the fifteenth of sixteenth time, and then let out a few notes from between ing in front of Dad’s men, but I soon realized that it doesn’t make any difference
It’s not like they’re paying attention, anyway
Another sedan drives ahead of us, packed indoith my father’s men, all of them ready to leap out and protect me at a moment’s notice
This doesn’t make me feel safe like maybe it should
Instead, I just feel trapped, even if the bars of ilded like the cliché
But hey, maybe cliché’s exist for a reason sometimes
I sing softly, wordlessly, trying to let ood, not terrible, not e
But self-esteem has never been my forte
Perhaps it would be easier if I knehat I was being protected fronorant where Dad’s business is concerned It’s like they still think I’m a little kid, scared of the dark, scared of reality The truth is I’don than live in this in-between space, constantly wondering, constantly questioning