She thought about running but had nowhere to go, and she knew no one who could help or hide her. Shaking with fear, Chaya paced, her mind racing. Would Ophelie show up? Would she arrive in time to save her from this travesty? For what seemed the hundredth time, she tried the doorknob, then hung her head in despair. Foolish! Tanith had turned the bolt when she left, and no one had unlocked it in the meantime.
She glanced at the hourglass. In all the time that had passed since her arrival, no one had come to speak with her. She slumped down into a nearby chair, determined to ignore the scratchiness of her attire. Then sounds at the door interrupted her musing.
She stood. Maybe it’s Ophelie!
Sabra and Cenka stepped inside.
Chaya remained standing, as though frozen in place.
“This way,” Sabra snapped, waving her forward.
“Please, Sabra, please help me,” she implored.
“It’s time you paid your mother back for all you’ve cost her.”
“Cenka, please!” Chaya begged, turning her attention to the other woman.
“Let’s go,” she ordered.
Chaya looked hard at the two servants. Then she did all she could. She threw back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stepped forward.
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