“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep,” she says, trying to tug her hand free of my grip.

“You need to eat first,” Hunter says quietly. “We’ve been here two days and all you’ve eaten is half a sandwich and a dry roll, you’re practically wasting away anyway.”

“I’m not hungry and how do you know what I’m eating, are you all following me?”

“There’s always eyes on you,” I tell her, not flinching at the accusing glare she darts in my direction.

“Please, Starling, just eat something. I’ll make whatever you want,” Hunter begs.

“I need to sleep,” she argues.

“Eat and then you can sleep, little bird,” I tell her.

“What do you fancy? Burgers, sandwiches, waffles, pancakes, French toast,” he offers a little desperately.

“Prisoners don’t normally get a choice,” she snaps.

“You’re not a prisoner,” I snarl.

Her scoff is derisive and dark. “I’ve been a prisoner since the day you declared I was yours. You tried to wrap it up in a pretty girlfriend bow, but if you take all the glitz away, I’m still here against my will. Why don’t you just tell me what I’ve got to eat and I’ll eat it, so I can go and sleep.”

Hunter’s shoulders slump and he moves silently around the kitchen, pulling together the ingredients for a sandwich as we all silently watch. He slides it in front of Starling and she picks it up and slowly eats, opening the bottle of water he places in front of her and drinking, until both the plate and bottle are empty.

“Can I go to bed now?” she asks.

I nod and she kicks off her shoes, bends to pick them up and leaves. I listen as she climbs the stairs, not relaxing until my cell beeps to notify me that my bedroom door has been opened.

“This is so fucked up,” Clay growls.

“You need to let her go, this isn’t going to work, she fucking hates you, all of us,” Evan says sadly. “She’s my sister, man, and she really fucking hates me. I don’t… I’ve never had a sibling before, I don’t…” he trails off, his expression defeated.

“Was she like this in Maine? This angry? What about friends? Is there anyone we could bring here, to make this easier for her?” Hunter asks.

“She didn’t make any friends, it was just her and her dad. We can’t bring him here, he hates me, she told him everything,” I admit.

“She must have some friends, there must be someone,” Clay says.

“According to the guards I had in the school, she didn’t. She went to school, did her work, but she was a loner, never engaged, never went out, never really spoke to anyone unless she absolutely had to.”

“You need to let her go, get her a place at the school she wanted to go to in Maine,” Evan tells me.

“No,” I snarl. “She’s mine.”

Shoving back his chair and jumping to his feet, Evan parts his lips, ready to yell at me, but Hunter speaks first. “She’s broken, we broke her. This girl isn’t the same Starling we knew, this isn’t the same Starling you fell in love with.”