I will break you

Thirteen

I endure three more days of hell before he comes to check on me. He seems astounded that I am still alive but I dart out before he can shut me back in. I must stink. There was no toilet in there so I had to blindly do my business in the water bottles that Kaleb had left me. I hid the torch in a blind spot in the room for some other poor soul to find. He grabs me by the arm roughly (I see we're not holding hands now) and presses a rough hand to my eyes. I am dragged down the stairs and at one point I attempt to run away, but his iron grip just tightens. We get to the basement and he shoves me down the stairs, causing me to land painfully on my elbows and back. He slams the door so hard that the surrounding wall vibrates. I see Beth and Hillary appear from the leisure room, staring at me wide-mouthed in disbelief. I attempt a small smile at them before I pass out.

I woke up in my room. In Julia's body. My head pounds and I feel fatigued. The room swims and then eventually disappears.

I wake up once again, days later I presume, to Beth and Hillary sitting at the foot of the bed with concern written all over their faces. “Oh you poor love!” Beth says, hugging me tightly. “W-What happened?” I manage to say, creasing my face in confusion. “You got placed in isolation.” Hillary says, her face a mask. “We thought you were dead.” She finishes, a single tear rolling down her face. “Papa is angry.” Beth chimes in. My stomach sinks. I half hoped that I would wake up at home, this horrible man gone from my life. “Are there cameras in here?” I ask, desperate to tell them about Kaleb. Both of them shake their heads in unison. “It's the only bit of privacy we really get.” Hillary says breathily, taking me and Beth by visible surprise. “I don't want to suck up to him anymore. He has ruined my life.” I smile. Beth frowns. “Hill, he's done so much for us housed us, fed us-”
“Kidnapped us?” I add in snarkily. “Finally at least one of you is speaking sense! We could get out of here, we could! There are four of us and one of him!”
“Four?” Hillary asks, puzzled. “Kaleb.” I say. “His son.” Hillary visibly pales. “You know what. Beth's right. We're being ungrateful. Look at all he's done for us.” She sounds deflated as she says this and she hugs her knees tightly to her chest. “Hillary?” I say testingly. She is acting very weird. “Kaleb is my son.” She blurts out.