Hannah let out a humorless laugh. The kind that came from someone who had already accepted the absurdity of their own life.
"On a scale of one to ten?" she repeated. "Probably a dead twelve."
Violet snorted before she could stop herself. But that seemed to encourage Hannah a little.
She shifted her weight and looked away, her face turning oddly blank.
"Angus was different with all of us," she said. "Not in a good way. More like he tailored the torture."
Violet's stomach dropped, her expression slowly lost its amusement.
Hannah continued. "If he thought you were weak, he broke you for fun. If he thought you were useful, he worked you until you couldn't stand. "And if he thought you were special…" she trailed off.
Violet frowned.
"What?"
Hannah looked at her then. There was something in her eyes Violet did not like.
"He watched you more."
A chill crept down Violet's spine.
"Me."
