“Let me out,” I drum my palms against the door.
“No,” comes Miron’s calm voice behind me—“no more of your conditions. Only mine.”
“And what are they?” I turn toward him and press my back to the door.
“How you put it,” he says, “I bought your time, and now I’ll use it the way I want. You’re mine.”
“No,” I shake my head.
“Yes,” his palms settle on the door on both sides of my head.
“You can’t run.”
“You bought yourself a doll, is that it?” My hands hang helplessly along my body. I look down, unable to meet his eyes.
“Enough, Ada,” his hand drops onto my chest, and his fingers slip under the fabric of my robe. “I’ve been waiting way too long—four whole years.”