Page 23 of Breaking Ophelia
“If you choose not to be, the Hunt will decide your value in other ways.”
The logic of this place is clean and cruel. My role is set, even if I don’t fully understand the rules yet.
I ball my hands into fists. “Why Caius Montgomery?”
Valence glances at Abelard. “He is the Board’s God Son. He is also—how shall we say—well-suited to correct the weaknesses in the last generation.”
A pause. Then Abelard leans forward, the gold pin on his lapel catching every bit of torchlight. “Your continued enrollment is conditional on your complete cooperation with your sponsor. Your father’s arrangement left you little recourse. You have none, now. You will participate in the Night Hunt. You will make Caius prove himself worthy.”
The words hit like a cold shower. I force myself not to blink. “What happens if I don’t?”
Valence slides a folder across the table. It lands in front of me, leather cold under my hand. “Expulsion. Your father’s debt is recalled, with interest. You both disappear.”
There is a form inside, thick as a legal brief. The last page has a single signature, my father’s, scrawled in desperate blue ink. I trace it with my finger, the ache rising in my throat.
The two shadows start whispering to each other. I hear only pieces: “…the ritual…” “…refusal means culling…” “…will not repeat the Pineridge mistake…”
Valence watches me sweat. She waits until the drop beads at my hairline, then slides a tissue across the table. “You may read the contract if you wish. It will not change the facts.”
I force a laugh. It’s too loud, but I let it echo. “So I get the education, the room, the food, and the privilege of being hunted by the school’s favorite sociopath. Sounds fair.”
For the first time, Abelard smiles. It’s almost worse than his frown.
“You misunderstand. The Hunt is not for you to lose. Your sponsor will ensure your compliance. And if he fails, there are others waiting.”
I close the folder, the pages trembling in my grip. “What if I leave now?”
Valence’s eyes narrow to slits. “That is not an option.”
I want to fight. But even if I win, I lose. The contract is a noose. The Board are the hands tightening it.
Abelard stands. “You will begin your official duties tomorrow. Caius will collect you.”
As I gather my things, Valence stops me with a word. “Ophelia. You are here because your father believed it would save him. Do not waste the opportunity.”
I look her in the eye. “I won’t.”
She grins. “Good. The Hunt always claims what it’s owed.”
They leave me there, alone, the red from the stained glass painting the table like a spill of fresh blood.
I let my head fall forward, breathing slow, until the thumping in my neck eases.
I am not prey. Not yet.
But I know what happens to things that refuse to run.
What fucking duties?
I stare at the door after they leave, expecting them to come back. For the first time in my life, I feel small enough to disappear. I press the folder to my chest and try to make myself believe that I can survive this.
I wait a full five minutes before I move. Then I stand, back straight, and walk the perimeter of the room, touching every edge, testing the seams. There are no windows except the one that bleeds red. The only exit is the door they came through. I approach it and listen, but nothing filters through except my own heartbeat.
They want me to run. I can feel it in my bones.
Instead, I go back to the table and open the folder. The contract is dense, line after line of legal code and ancient Latin, but I find the part that matters: “Remittance of all outstanding debts conditional upon physical and behavioral compliance ofbeneficiary’s next of kin. Enforcement at the Board’s discretion. Failure of compliance is grounds for immediate forfeiture of all rights and protections.”
My father’s name is at the bottom, written with the carelessness of a man who never planned for consequences. I want to hate him, but I can’t. I understand the calculus. He saw no other way out.
