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*DOUBLE UPDATE-READ 9 FIRST*

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*DOUBLE UPDATE-READ 9 FIRST*

I wake up to little, wet touches to my chest.

My hands are cuffed to the chains on the wall, but I'm able to move them. I could walk three steps away from the wall, but that's it. I can't get any further and thus, can't escape.

My head hurts. It's like five years back all over again—the bat on my head making me pass out. I can still remember the piercing pain. 

Realization dawns on me. I'm stuck in Father's hands. Michael and our team will pull up here any moment now, not knowing our Father is still alive. They'll walk right in his trap.

The little wet touches stop. I look down, suspicious to what they are.

Camilla's lips, placing little kisses on the bleeding scratches on my bare chest. My eyes scan her fragile frame, so happy they can finally eat up the sight of her again.

It occurs to me that she is, relatively, fine. She has a black eye and a nasty scratch all over her cheek but asides from that, she's physically fine. Her smile isn't any less and the joy in her eyes is still as much as it was back at the dance.

"Oh, princess," I whisper and bend down, being able to hug her again. The tears spring in my eyes when she hugs back. My heart is torn apart and put back together just because she's safe.

Except that she's not hundred percent safe. But I'll find anyone who comes in here to take her with them or touch her. She won't experience any pain or torture. Not while I'm conscious. 

I quickly scan the room. There's a camera in the opposite corner of the room, the one where underneath is a thin blanket and one little toy of Camilla. Probably the one she was carrying with her three days ago.

My mind makes up a plan very fast. I tell her to go get her stuff, because her current sleeping place is too close to the door. She listens and giggles, running to get her blanket and doll.

"Are we going to play house?" she laughs, running back in my arms. The second I can, I keep a hand on the small of her back, just because I finally can. 

I set her up in the corner.  My right hand is on one wall, the left attached to the other. This way, it makes me able to corner her and shield her from anyone. The two walls do the rest of the work. "Camilla, listen to me for a second."

She nods, sitting down on the blanket and looking up at me with those innocent eyes. It makes me want to bawl.

"We have to play very silent," I whisper. She places her hands in front of her mouth and giggles, but it's muffled. Thank God. 

"Daddy and papa are searching us," I lie. But I know this is the only way she'll actually stay silent. "If they find us, they'll rip all of our dolls. Even the unicorns!"

She gasps, but quickly muffles it under her hand. Her eyes start to fill with tears, but I place my hand over hers fast enough. I shake my head. "No, no. No crying. Silent."

Her nod is the only thing I get to know she got it. She then proceeds to hug me and plop down next to me to play with the doll. I just watch her. I'm with my back to the door, towering over her just to protect her. 

If I were alone, I would have shouted until they came to get me. I would have fought them off, daring them to hurt me. But now there's Camilla. They won't spare her if it makes me break.

And let my girls just be my weakest points in life. They're not bad things, but nothing will make me fold as fast as my girls.

The dirt on her face bothers me, so I start brushing it away. Softly and slowly, to not interrupt her fantasy world. She frowns and pushes my hand away, just like she always does when I touch her at a time in her play. 

"Dada," she whispers, irritated. I decide to not make her annoyed with me so I stay back, watching her hand curl around the doll. Her lips move in a silent way of dialogue. 

I would love to hear everything she says to the doll and what it'd say back, but know it's the safest way like this. She's listening to me, for once, and that's the most important. 

I look around the room. There's a small window, which provides us of sunlight. It's too small to fit anyone through, though. Even Camilla wouldn't fit. I sigh.

The rest of the room is empty. All they gave my princess was the blanket she's sitting on. Instead, they took my shirt and left me to shiver.

I don't care, however. My priorities lie with Camilla and her health. I'll give the only blanket to her, so she won't get any cold. I'll tuck her close to me, both for warmth and safety. 

A shudder goes over my spine. It's cold in here, I realize now, and Camilla is only wearing a dress. "Hey, princess," I whisper. She looks up at me. "Where is your sweater?"

I swear I gave her a sweater before we took off. I swear it. It didn't fit with her dress, because I saw Daisy shooting me a pointed glare, but I gave her one. 

She looks around, one finger in her mouth as she thinks. She always does that when something's too hard to comprehend. Then, she points at the door. "They took it!"

They took her sweater? Why on Christ's earth would they take my daughter's sweater?

A shiver goes over her too, making her frown in displeasure. I push her more towards the walls, more into the corner, before wrapping the blanket around her. It smells like rotten eggs and the dust just falls right out of it, but it's something to keep her warm with.

I continue to give her warmth with my body, closing her in with my body against her. Her shivers and clattering teeth stop soon enough, leaving only mine to sound through the room.

"Sh," she tells me. I remember my lie and nod, trying to silence the rattling of my teeth. Me being cold doesn't matter, her safety does.

I'm just glad I can protect her.

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