Page 63 of Collin: Episodes 4-6
“It isn’t the first time she’s broken it. She’ll be fine. She’s normally smart about trying to rush through doors when no one’s looking, but…” Mr. Moreau shook his head. “It’s been at least three years since the last time she hurt herself.”
“Maybe she would like to go on a walk?”
“Like a dog?”
“Yes, with a leash.”
“If you can get a leash on her, good luck.” Mr. Moreau shook his head. “That cat refuses to tolerate even a collar. She’s microchipped for a good reason.”
Collin shook his head. “I think I’m going to rest in my room. I’ll come back and clean up soon.” He made good his escape.
Alone, he sank down onto the floor, his back to his bed, and put his head on his knees. His bladder had given up complaining with vigor and simmered down to a low ache. Which was probably not good but at least helpful. What he was though was thirsty. And he probably needed to eat. None of which he was going to do. Not till his dom came home.
He opened his phone and searched for YouTube videos on Chinese. At least he could do one thing right and get started on learning what he’d been told to learn.
Somewhere deep in a video explaining the history of different Chinese languages—Collin was getting it but also trying to figure out why not just call all these languages by their names instead of calling them Chinese—a knock came at the door. He scrambled to his feet and opened it.
“Sir! You’re back.”
“And so are you. How’s Ash?”
“I left him with Ellisandre, sir. And he hasn’t called asking for rescue, so I’m assuming it’s going okay.”
“Did he seem all right after the run-in with the police?”
“He was more worried about Ellisandre than the cops when I left and complaining about being told to eat. But I’ll call him later just to make sure.”
“Thank you. I believe you have something that’s mine?”
Collin blinked, mind blank. And then it hit him. “Oh, um, the key, yes, sir.” He stuck his hand in his pocket. It wasn’t there. He checked his other one and looked back at the floor. Not there either.
“Maybe…it’s probably in my coat, sir.”
“You haven’t relieved yourself since you got home?”
Collin dropped his eyes. “No, sir.”
“How much have you drank today?”
“Um…” Collin swallowed. “Just coffee this morning, I think.”
“But you served Émeric and Damian lunch. Did you not eat?”
Collin shook his head. He couldn’t get his eyes off the floor. He reached for the molding around the door frame and dug the pads of his fingers into the edges.
Mr. Reevesworth slid the crook of his finger under Collin’s chin and tilted his head up. Collin closed his eyes, flushing. “Collin, have you relieved yourself at all since this morning?”
“No, sir.” Collin’s voice was just a whisper.
“Why?”
“I just…” Collin couldn’t stop the trembling in his limbs. His voice was trying to strangle itself in a bid to hide. “I don’t know, sir.”
“I sent you the key, did I not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did Émeric say to you?”
