𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

Eighteen

"You will be visited by your parents today," Odette's piercing voice fills my room.

I close my eyes and pretend she didn't say what she just said.

"Amie?"

"Why is this even necessary?" I spin around to face her. She's dressed in a black dress as if she's heading to a funeral. Her hair is put up in long and tangled braids. She looks like a queen.

"This is the procedure for all of our students," she explains calmly. "Do you think we just kidnap children and not let their parents know their child is safe?"

I roll my eyes. "They don't give a fuck about my safety. I thought you said the only reason was checking for allergies or something?"

She purses her lips. "I'm not going to keep arguing with you, Amalie."

The air grows thick and the room is dead silent.

"How . . . do you know my name?"

She tilts her head instead of answering, studying my reaction.

No one has called me Amalie since I was two years old. I was named after my grandmother who I was very close to. She almost got me out of the abuse. Then she died on my birthday. I've never let anyone call me Amalie ever since.

"Please don't call me that," I grit my teeth. "How am I supposed to trust you if you don't tell me shit?"

"Language, please," Odette pinches the bridge of her nose. "We keep going in circles."

"Because you won't give me any answers—"

"I've had enough of your attitude, Amalie," she exclaims with her eye twitching. Now she's just calling me that to piss me off. "Your parents are going to be her whether you like it or not—it's required. Now you're either going to go along with this smoothly or your time here will be spent in misery, understand?"

I shake my head. "If you're so fucking obsessed with me, at least have a good attitude towards me—"

She walks up and slaps me.

And the cycle starts again.