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24 Burn

Becca

Yesterday, we used our own utensils and ate our own food to avoid the situation we are currently in. To avoid anything they could use against us. I cannot phantom how we missed it today. But I guess we were both too tired and too focused on watching their moves; we didn’t see the hidden intention behind the dinner.

The embarrassment of my stupidness colors my cheeks and makes my heart race. How will we get out of this situation? Ideas are popping up in my head, but I have to ditch all of them ‘cause they might make things even worse. The hopelessness of the situation freezes me.

I keep my gaze and shoulders steady as I cut the meat and bring the first bite to my mouth. Carefully, though, not to let the fork touch my lips. I let out a moan of delight, complimenting the food, as I focus on steadying my voice.

Jason follows my lead, and we quicken our eating.

The sensitive skin on my left palm and finger bends is where it is the most painful, becoming a burn I can hardly take.
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