Page 14 of Bound By Thorns

Martha’s pleading eyes begged for something I couldn’t give her. She deserved the truth, no matter how much it would hurt. She needed to know.

The first time I got pregnant, Garret had made sure no one knew. He made sure of a lot of things. By the time theprocedurewas over, I was so wrecked I couldn’t feed or even dress myself. That was the only reason Martha had known then—because she’d been the one to take care of me in those hollow, broken days afterward.

But this time? This time, no one would care. Not about the fetus. Not about me. Even if, by some impossible miracle, I wanted to keep it, I knew the truth. The choice would never be mine. It never had been.

“Can I tell you something, Mar?” I mumbled, my eyes consumed with pain and dread.

She nodded hesitantly and I asked her to come to my room in twenty minutes.

The wait felt eternal. As minutes ticked by, doubt crept in, but then Martha appeared, her steps cautious. Sitting on the edge of my bed, her innocent question pierced the heavy silence.

“What is it, Kaylan? Are you okay?” She asked so innocently. I didn’t have the heart to tell her my story. But I needed to. I needed to know if I had allies here.

“Do you want to sit?” I gestured towards my bed.

She hesitantly sat down, her fingers playing with the helm of her worn T-shirt.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, then said it aloud, the words heavier than I’d expected. “I was taken, Martha. I’m not here as an employee.”

Her expression shifted—confusion first, then something softer, a kind of quiet acceptance.

She nodded slowly. “So… you’re not even a doctor?”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Not technically, no. I’m not a licensed doctor. But I am a qualified medical practitioner. A combat medic.”

Martha didn’t speak for a long moment, the silence stretching thick between us. Her gaze drifted past me, and she nodded.

Finally, she cleared her throat, breaking the stillness. “Did I ever tell you how I came to run the kitchen?”

The question caught me off guard. “No,” I said, shaking my head.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, but her eyes clouded with a distant pain. “I had a daughter once. Raha. It must’ve been… more than twenty years ago now.”

I stayed silent, my gaze fixed on her, waiting.

“I was alone when I had her. She was always a frail child, but she was my everything. One night, her father came back into our lives. He told me he’d take us both to his mansion. Said he’d provide for us, give Raha the life she deserved.”

Her voice wavered, and she met my gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I was so naive. I believed him. Raha was nine. The perfect age, I suppose, for that monster.”

Her tears fell freely now, but she kept speaking, her voice raw and trembling. “I woke up one morning, and Raha was gone. Her bed was empty. Her father promised to do everything to find her… if I warmed his bed and cooked for him. And I was foolish enough to agree. Months passed. Years. But Raha never came back. That liar, that bastard, he never even looked for her. Why would he? He was the one who shipped her off.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing against my chest like a stone.

“Then his son came to live in the mansion,” she continued, her voice steadier now. “Garret was nothing like his father. At least, that’s what I thought. He treated me kindly. Always polite. I thought—no, Iwantedto believe he was different.”

Her gaze turned sharp, filled with anguish and accusation, and she fixed it on me. “But he’s not, is he? He’sexactlylike his father.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, cutting through the silence of years. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. My head hung low, shame pooling in the pit of my stomach.

I nodded numbly, my voice caught somewhere between my throat and my heart.

Martha’s voice softened, breaking as she whispered, “I think… I knew it. Deep down, I knew. I wanted so badly to believe he was different. He told me he wouldn’t bring women here just to use them. But you…” Her voice cracked. “You were his for so long. I thought maybe… maybe he’d turned into something better.You just became his Martha, didn’t you? I was wrong, wasn’t I,miha?”

Her words were heavy with sorrow and regret, each one driving home the cruel reality we both lived in. I looked up, meeting her tear-filled eyes, but I had nothing to offer her. No solace, no comfort—just the bitter truth we already shared.

“I’m not his, Mar. He hates me.” My voice was hoarse from keeping that bile remain in my throat. I wondered what happened to Raha. According to Martha, this trafficking had been going on for decades.

I settled on a steady gaze and pleaded. “I need to get out of here, Mar.”

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