Allegra sits huddled in the corner alongside Willow and Diane, the absence of their two sold friends a painful reminder of their uncertain fate. Time blurs together in the suffocating confines of their captivity—was it a year, two, or more? Each passing day only deepens the shadows of despair that loom over them.
Clutching onto the fragile strand of hope, they dream of being purchased by kind-hearted souls, of escaping the clutches of the establishment and finding sanctuary in the arms of compassion. But as doubt gnaws at their resolve, Allegra can't help but question the very notion of "good people." If they truly existed, why would they turn a blind eye to the suffering endured within these walls?
"I miss Penny," Diane says with a heavy sigh.
"I miss Cecelia," Willow echoes, her voice tinged with longing.
"I miss my dad," Allegra murmurs softly, her gaze lost in the darkness.
Their collective yearning hangs heavy in the air as they share a moment of shared sorrow.
Then, Willow's voice breaks the silence. "I don't get something. If you're an elite, why hasn't your family found you yet?" She paused. Her head nestled in Allegra's lap. "Weird theory, Don't get mad but what if they orchestrated the incident that night?" Allegra's thoughts churn at the question, her mind grappling with the same uncertainty.
Diane scoffs dismissively. "Yeah right! Why would her family do something so bad to their own heiress?"
But Willow sits up, her expression thoughtful. "Think about it, though. It was the night of her birthday. Even if her dad didn't do it, her mom could have, or her sister, or all of them..."
Allegra's brows furrow at the unsettling possibility, her mind reeling at the implications of Willow's theory. As Willow's words sink in, a mix of emotions swirl within Allegra. Confusion clouds her thoughts at first, but then the pieces start to click into place. Her mother's disdain for her, the constant pressure she puts on her father to act impulsively—it all starts to make a twisted kind of sense.
Her mind races with the implications of Willow's theory. Could it be that her own mother orchestrated her abduction as a form of punishment? The idea is chilling, yet it aligns disturbingly well with her mother's cruel tendencies.
Gladys's words echo in her mind, confirming Willow's suspicions. "You will never be sold," she had said, as if Allegra's fate was sealed by some unseen force.
A shiver runs down Allegra's spine as she contemplates the possibility that her own family may be behind her captivity. It's a bitter pill to swallow, but deep down, she knows she can't dismiss the notion entirely.
In the embrace of her friends, Allegra finds a flicker of solace amidst the turmoil of her thoughts. Their words offer a small glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds them.
"Don't cry," Willow murmurs, her voice soft and soothing.
But Allegra can't hold back the tears that well up in her eyes. They spill over her cheeks, dampening her already worn-down spirit. "I will never be sold," she sobs, her voice choked with emotion. "Gladys said it herself."
The weight of those words hangs heavy in the air, a grim reminder of their grim reality. Despite her efforts to maintain a facade of strength, Allegra can't shake the sinking feeling that they may be trapped in this hellish existence forever.