"And where are you two coming from?"
Lieselotte.
She stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes darting between Anya and me with a venomous, triumphant glitter. She had been waiting.
"The mistress is going to be so interested to hear about this little midnight stroll."
Anya didn't hesitate.
"None of your business," she snapped. She tried to push past her, her shoulder brushing Lieselotte's arm.
That was her mistake.
The slap echoed.
A sharp, brutal crack that rang against the walls.
Anya's head snapped to the side, a small gasp escaping her as she stumbled back, clutching her reddening cheek.
Something inside me snapped.
For days, I had been mopping floors until my knees bled. I had been starving. I had been humiliated. I had watched them take my children. I had reached the absolute bottom of human suffering... and yet, they still wanted more?
I didn't think. I simply stepped forward.
