Chapter 8: What Happens Behind Closed Doors
"You've been talking to him."
The door slams.
The mask drops.
Tristana doesn't answer.
She knows better.
Cristoff circles her slowly.
"Did you forget who you belong to?"
"I don't belong to anyone," she whispers.
The slap is immediate.
Her head snaps to the side.
Pain blooms.
But it's nothing new.
"Careful," he murmurs, gripping her chin. "You're already on thin ice."
She says nothing.
Because anything she says will make it worse.
It always does.