hea

ed in the air between us. He tried to puff out his chest, to rec

no time t

ilence. I nodded toward the pile of boxes in the corner.

s my payment. Payment for a year of being their lab rat. For every time they

yes boring into his. "I want it.

scape. "The... the money is already gone," he stammered, the lie cl

eritance?" I pressed

false confidence. "On you! On your food, your clothes, your e

felt nothing. No guilt. No shame. In his mind, I was nothing more than a ledger of exp

ring, but a clean, final snap. The last, gossamer-thin thread of hope tha

lmost took my breath away. But it was followed b

li

as

and clean. When I spoke again, my voice was devoid of all

"I am no one to you. And you are nothing to me. I am

e, to manipulate my sense of duty and debt. The idea that his tool could simply declare

e, sputtering rage. The ma

. His eyes landed on the heavy crystal ashtray on the

sed it high above his head and sla

ce. The crystal exploded, sending a shower of sh

g their arms over their heads to prot

k. I stood there, a statue in a storm of his making, and watched him. I watched this respe

ld. He had tried to frighten me. He had tried to cow me

own making, all I felt was pity. He wasn't a monster. He was