Angelina and William were sitting in an inconspicuous place in the back of a confectioner's shop, away from prying eyes, they enjoyed a steaming cup of tea. The worried expression in her eyes revealed the courage she had mustered to be there that morning, she had had to sneak out of the house to avoid her husband's questioning. Gently, he poured Angelina a portion of tea and held out a plate of cookies, as a comforting offer amidst the tension. Watching around cautiously, she leaned toward William, speaking in quick whispers. "I took a big risk coming here. James is extremely suspicious, he's sure I helped you get into the house. " he confessed, as his gaze was lost in the uncertainty of the moment. "I didn't think he would work." William tried to find words that would reassure her, though he knew nothing would. "But if he hadn't come, the risk would be even greater," she replied, trying to quell her fears. A glimmer of anguish crossed Angelina's eyes as she shared her concern
As Meg tidied up her room, her thoughts simmered with an escape plan, secret and risky. She meticulously prepared a small suitcase, which she hid under the bed, careful not to attract the attention of the servants. If anyone asked she would say that it was just her clothes that would be taken to the Barton mansion, but Meg had a very different plan in mind. She would flee at dawn, when everyone was asleep, for she was not willing to marry William, nor did she want to impose her troublesome presence in James and Angelina's home.She had no choice. Her heart yearned for freedom and a new life. As she finalized her preparations by putting some money into a small handbag, and hiding it at the bottom of a drawer, Angelina's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Dear Meg, could you go to the dressmaker in my place? My dress is ready," Angelina requested, with a tired expression. "Because of my pregnancy, I'm feeling a little unwell." Meg rolled her eyes, but agreed, for, she also had plans t
Meg awoke with a jolt as she heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. She was curled up like a ball, lying on the cold, damp floor. Her face was bruised and dirty, while her whole body ached intensely. Her mind felt like a bomb about to explode and her heart was beating fast. Terrified, she tried to locate herself by looking around, and realized that she was locked in a dark, windowless room where she could barely see an inch in front of her nose, only a small sliver of light coming through the door. A sigh of pain escaped her lips as she tried to move. Everything around her became quiet. The gloomy silence was broken only by the rapid beating of her heart, echoing in her ears like an anxious drum. With effort, Meg tried to get up, but a strong dizziness stopped her, causing her to fall back to the floor. She struggled to align her thoughts and remember what had happened. Fragments of memory surfaced in her mind: the strange driver, the dark faces of those unknown men..., but
Meg screamed, cried and screamed again. Her screams echoed through the dark and cold environment, unanswered. Caged in a room with only fear and darkness for company, she heard the screams of other women as well. Time after time, someone would throw a piece of musty bread in her direction, accompanied by a mug of dirty water, just enough to keep her from starving to death. As the pain of hunger and cold settled into her weakened body, Meg couldn't help but think of James. Had he suffered by noticing her absence? Would he have looked for her when he realised something was wrong? Or maybe, just maybe somewhere inside himself, he felt relieved by her sudden departure. Questions without answers consumed his mind, stirring his anguish. The days dragged on grew exceedingly long. Hunger gnawed at his empty stomach, thirst punished his dry throat and cold penetrated his bones. It was an unrelenting torture that threatened to destroy his sanity. The door opened and a man in a long tu
"Hey. You!" whispered a female voice from the other side of the door. Meg was lying on the floor, feeling the dampness of the ground against her skin, causing a slight discomfort. She groped blindly for the walls, feeling the rough stones scratch her already bruised fingers. "Who's there?" Meg asked, her voice shaky. "Speak softly," she replied. The woman carefully pushed a piece of wood blocking the bottom of the door, partially revealing her face.Meg looked up at a woman, her eyes filled with hope and curiosity. "Who are you?" she asked again, eager for answers. The woman scanned the hallway, making sure no one could hear her, before answering in an urgent whisper, "My name is Sophia. Like you, I am a prisoner in this dangerous place. I'm here to help you." Sophia held out her hand to Meg, handing her a small piece of bread, "Here, eat quickly. You need energy." "I'm hungry." Meg swallowed the piece of bread quickly, without even taking a breath. She felt her stomach
The days dragged on slowly, like the ticking of a broken clock. Meg remained locked in her room, feeling a deep emptiness because of James' absence and the longing for her home. The surrounding environment was pervaded by a heavy stillness, broken only by the occasional sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway. As Meg lay there, she heard the sound of the lock being unlocked and her heart filled with hope, for she believed that she had been the victim of a great deception and that James would find her. The bedroom door opened noisily, but it was a stout woman accompanied by two men. It was not James. Meg felt disappointed and afraid. "Get up quickly and follow me," the woman ordered with coldness in her voice. Meg felt small before the imposing presence of the nun, and remembering Sophia's words, she decided to obey without hesitation, without question. She stood up quickly, leaving behind the cold embrace of the bedsheets. They walked down a long corridor, whose faded and di
The worst part of losing an illusion is that we will never get it back in its fullness, and Meg had lost all her illusions. She had witnessed the man she loved marry someone else and live unhappily, having no memory of James smiling beside Angelina. He always seemed impatient and moody. In addition, Meg was the victim of a conspiracy that would force her to marry a despicable man, and now she was trapped in a hospital that looked more like a prison. The day had not even dawned when Meg was abruptly awakened. Like all patients, she started the day with a brief prayer. "You are going to another ward of our hospital," said a nun. "Another ward?" questioned Meg, perplexed by the news. "Yes, the room you were in was meant for your quarantine. You are now cleared to socialize with the other patients," the nun explained. Meg had spent all morning carrying firewood to supply the kitchen, her delicate hands that used to play the piano were now being punished with manual labor. When the
Meg walked with quick steps down the long hallways. She was carrying a few pieces of wood to fuel the fire in the mother superior's room. At that moment a wave of childhood memories flooded her mind. She had lived for a few years in an orphanage and had learned the lessons necessary to survive in that environment. She learned that being passive would make her a target for cruelty, but she also knew that constantly fighting would draw too much attention. To survive in such places, it was necessary to adopt an almost invisible stance, balancing between these extremes and having allies. She entered the luxurious room with the bundle of firewood in her arms, she was so tired that she almost knocked them over as she closed the door, but held it tighter as she heard exalted voices coming from another room. "But, that's not right," a female voice shouted in the other room. "There's nothing to do," the other spoke up. "We have to stop." Meg looked at the table set up under the win