Chapter 5

Miss Oh POV

It was 6 a.m. precisely, when I unlocked the door to the cage room just as Adams had commanded. The heavy iron door creaked open as I pushed it, the damp air hitting me in a wave. My eyes scanned the room, with a pounding heart. And then I saw her—Brenda—curled in a ball, her head bent low. Her back was on the cold stone wall, and she looked... lifeless.

A cold terror washed down me, my breath seized. Is she dead? The thought hitting me like a sledgehammer.

In a trembling tone I called out and rushed toward her, my heart hammering in my chest. "Miss Brenda!" I knelt down beside her, my hands shaking as I gently lifted her head. Her eyes were shut closed, and there was no sign of life on her pale face. I pressed my fingers to her wrist, praying for a pulse. But there was nothing. My stomach churned.

"Miss Brenda, are you okay? Please, talk to me..." I shook her gently, hoping to hear her voice, to see any sign of movement. But it was silent. After what felt like eternity, I finally felt a slight breath against my fingers, an unsteady movement of air.

I let out a heavy sigh of relief. She wasn’t dead yet. But she was close. Too close.

Carefully, with shaking hands I lifted her limp body from the ground, holding her as gentle as possible. I wasn’t sure how much strength she had left, but I wasn’t going to delay any further.

As I made my way into the hallway, I almost bumped into a servant coming from the other direction. His eyes bulged when he saw Brenda in my arms, and he increased his pace, his face filled with concern.

"Is everything fine?" he asked, his voice was raised in an alarm.

I could barely form words, my mind too chaotic. "Send for Ms. Eliza. Now." My voice was tight, but the servant nodded and rushed off, disappearing into the shadows.

I didn’t wait to see where he’d gone. My eyes were locked on the door ahead. The main door. I had to get her out of here.

But just as I got to the door, Someone called my name from behind.

“Miss Oh!”

I froze, my body tense as I turned around. There, standing with her cane in hand, was Ms. Eliza. Her face was overshadowed with shock as she tried to comprehend the scene, when her gaze landed on Brenda.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice soft, but tinged with worry.

My mouth opened to answer, but the words stuck in my throat. "She... she fainted. She can hardly breathe now. Please, help her.” I was barely holding it together.

Ms. Eliza moved closer to Brenda, her hands cool as she placed them on the young woman’s forehead. She frowned, her expression turning serious. "She’s cold. Too cold. She’s weak... but she’s not dead."

Relief flooded through me, but it was fleeting. "She’s starving, Ms. Eliza. She needs help. She needs... something."

Ms. Eliza glanced at me, her eyes sharp. "She might not make it to the hospital in time. Call the family doctor. He’ll be here faster."

I nodded, relief mixing with fear. In my anxiety, the thoughts had escaped my mind. I dialed the doctor’s number, my hands still shaking. Minutes later, he arrived, looking calm but focused.

He examined Brenda carefully, his face tight with concentration. "She has Asthenia and Cachexia. She’s been starving for days. Recovery could take time." He turned to Ms. Eliza. "Can I speak with you for a moment?" His voice was low.

Ms. Eliza gave a curt nod and together they left the room leaving me alone with Brenda. My gaze never left the young woman, who lay still on the couch, her chest rising and falling weakly.

I sighed, my eyes welling with tears. Damian... What have you done to her?

I had hoped she would be spared from this... this cruel world he had dragged her into. But it was clear she wasn’t. Damian’s ruthlessness didn’t care for anyone.

Just then, Brenda stirred. Her body twitched, and I saw her chest rise with a faint breath.

She coughed.

A tiny, inaudible sound that filled me with hope. And then again, another weak cough.

I tilted forward, my heart leaping in my chest. She’s alive.

"Miss Oh... you’re suffocating me," Brenda murmured, her voice hoarse and soft, but unmistakable.

I let out a breath of relief, hugging her carefully, as if afraid she might break. "You’re okay, Miss Brenda. You’re going to be okay."

She pushed weakly against me, managing to sit up. Her eyes were dazed as she looked around, still trying to understand where she was.

"Where is he? Where is... Adams?" Her voice vibrated with fright and I felt her hand tremble in mine.

Before I could answer, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. The door creaked open from behind.

I turned around, and there was a falter in my heartbeat. And there, standing in the doorway, was Damian Adams.

His cold eyes met mine, and the tension between us seemed to freeze.

"You... What is this?” he growled, his voice sharp with anger.

And for the first time since I had met him, I saw true rage in his gaze.

Brenda’s face drained of color. "No... no, please... not him." She murmured, her hand clutching at my arm, panic flashing across her face. She collapsed once more, overcome by fear. Instead of stepping forward to assist his wife, he merely hissed in frustration and left the room without a second glance.

I gently supported her into her room and laid her down on the bed, taking a moment to look at her. My heart ached with both pity and admiration for her strength. Her life was fraught with hardship, and I wished more than anything I could do something to change her circumstances.

I couldn't help but wonder how much longer I could shield her from him.