I stop because I know there’s no point. He’s already made up his mind. I can see it in his eyes. The irritation swirling with his desire to punish me. I don’t have the energy to argue right now. He could drag me to the cellar, and I wouldn’t be able to put up so much as an argument.

“I’m going to sit you up,” he says. “We’ll go slow.”

I give him a tiny nod, and as he promised, he goes very slow, but it doesn’t stop the pain shooting through my skull. I’m wincing in agony, and Judge doesn’t miss it. Nor does he miss the bruise on the side of my face when he tucks my hair back behind my ear.

“Is this where it hurts?” He presses his fingers against the area gingerly.

“No. The back.”

He keeps my body supported with his hands as he moves around behind me to examine the area, and I hear his sharp inhale when he feels the egg on the back of my head.

“You’re bleeding,” he says gruffly.

“It hurts,” I whisper. “Please—”

I don’t even know what I’m asking for. But I need his help, as much as it pains me to admit it.

He moves around me and gathers me up in his arms, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. “Don’t worry, little monster. I’m going to take care of you.”

After hours of tests and observation at The Society hospital, the verdict is as I suspected. I have a concussion, and they had to give me a few stitches for the gash on the back of my head. They send us home with instructions to rest and a prescription for the pain. But that isn’t the extent of my injuries, and I know Judge is still thinking about them as he drives me home.

When they asked me to change into a gown, there was no hiding them from him. He saw the bruises on my ribs and knees, and I know he’s questioning why I would do that to myself. I want to tell him I didn’t, but that fear is still there in the back of my mind. Just like when I tried to tell Santiago that I killed the courtesan in self-defense. He didn’t believe me, so it’s doubtful Judge will either. He probably thinks I got what I deserve for trying to escape in the first place.

I stare out the window, numb and exhausted. I want to cry, but it hurts too much to do that. I’m just hoping Judge will be merciful and leave me to the comfort of my own room tonight rather than tossing me in the cellar like Miriam mentioned.