//CLARA//
Stupid! Fucking stupid idiot!
The door slammed with a finality that shook the pictures on my walls, and I was left alone with the wreckage of my own words.
I collapsed onto the bed, my entire body still shaking. It wasn't fear—I was now too pissed off for fear. It was something else, something morbid and heavy that twisted in my chest until I couldn't draw a full breath.
Then came the heat. The hot, stinging, frustrated tears that blurred my vision and turned the room into a watercolor of gray and gold.
I felt awful. Not because I had lost the argument. Not because he had locked me in my room like a child. But because I had looked him in the eye and called him a monster.
Hattie came back after an hour. She found me still lying there, cheeks wet.
"Oh, Miss Eleanor. Let me get you cleaned up."
I let her work. She peeled off the soiled dress and brought a basin of warm water. I scrubbed myself clean until the skin was raw.
