Defect of Servitude [Book #1]

"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."
-Alan Watts

I pulled on a fresh shirt when Becca's familiar knock echoed through the room.

"Rise and shine, Maddie! Time to greet the day!" Her bright voice starkly contrasted the swirling shadows of my thoughts. I took a deep breath, smoothing imaginary wrinkles as I opened the door. Becca leaned against the wooden frame, her vibrant hair catching the morning light. "Look at you, all dressed and ready! How did you sleep?"

"Better than I expected," I admitted, stepping across the threshold to join her.

As we moved to the kitchen, she began to fill the silence with animated stories about her gardening mishaps. I listened, a small smile creeping onto my face as she described a runaway rabbit that had demolished her hard work. Yet, even amidst her laughter, a nagging sense of strangeness lingered. How could life feel so average while the black cloud of my past loomed?

Everything felt unfamiliar. A restless, twitching energy buzzed at the back of my mind like the sharp prickle of an electric shock. My body had grown used to the bruises, the blows, and the endless degradation. Could someone go through a withdrawal from pain? The abrupt shift from being seen as worthless scum, without any rights, to being seen as a person—it rattled my system, leaving me unsettled.

The gravity of these thoughts furrowed my brow into a deep frown. Becca noticed immediately, her reactions precise as always, and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. Her touch was light and careful, as though she knew not to overwhelm me.

"I've got a feeling you're going to love this," she said softly, her voice a balm to my frayed nerves. "You must be starving."

I wasn't. We were allowed to eat once daily, and skipped meals were typical if the teachers decided we didn't deserve them. My body had adjusted after months of the same grueling schedule.

I nodded. I didn't want to dredge up the past. Becca's look in Nan's office branded itself on my memory, a quiet reminder that she had lived through horrors, too. I could adapt if the vibrant, glowing woman beside me could be so outgoing after all she'd endured. I always had. I had to give it time.

Becca's hand grabbed mine, pulling me toward the door with her usual energy, interrupting my descent into thought. "Evan is a genius in the kitchen! I've eaten foods I never thought I'd try, and they were amazing."

Becca gracefully led me through the dining area, revealing a space that exuded elegance at every turn. Pristine white silk adorned the tables; crystals shimmered in every nook and cranny. They nestled in vases, candle holders, chair accents, and exquisite chandeliers suspended above each table. The sheer beauty of it all overwhelmed me. I unconsciously pulled my arm from Becca's and stood transfixed. The breathtaking sight held me utterly captive.