CHAPTER 57.>>>>>

For a few moments, Akira stood there, reflecting on what she had done. Despite Bethany's lengthy talks, she still wasn’t convinced that she had made the right choice. She couldn’t shake the deep guilt settling in her chest. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it was just for survival, she felt terrible about how she had chosen to live.

From killing Thalia to now condemning two innocent slaves who had bothered no one and had nothing to do with her troubles, she felt trapped. They were about to meet their demise for something they knew nothing about. Three lives lost in just a few days… how many more would it take to keep her true identity hidden?

How many more people was Bethany willing to sacrifice to ensure no one discovered who her friend really was? No matter how hard Akira tried to push it out of her mind—that she was just trying to survive, as Beth claimed—she couldn’t. Her chest felt heavy with the realization that she was now a murderer. She may not have committed the act herself, as Beth had with Thalia, but everything had been done to protect her, making her an accomplice.

Slowly, she sank down against the cold stone wall, her knees buckling beneath her. She pressed both palms against her face, staring blankly at the sky as memories flooded back: Thalia’s lifeless eyes, the two slaves begging for mercy, and now facing death—only because she had stayed silent and refused to speak the truth.

A low growl escaped her lips as she bit down on her lip until the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She hoped that maybe the pain would numb the guilt. Just maybe it would… but it didn’t. It didn’t change anything or bring any of them back. The weight in her chest was immense, and the only word echoing in her mind was… killer.

“Three,” she whispered hoarsely to herself, rocking slightly where she sat. *Three because of me… three in just days…* She wasn’t willing to watch them take more lives just to cover her tracks. She was done; this was the height of it all. She hated herself—hated the weakness that made her stay quiet, hated the selfishness that caused her to value her life above theirs, hated the way Beth’s words still made sense even as they ripped her apart. She needed to survive.

Once she noticed someone approaching, she muffled her sobs into her sleeve and quickly wiped her eyes, dragging a breath through her nose. Raising her head, she saw it was Beth.

“Come on, Nia,” Beth said as she continued to approach. “We have work to do, and you need to focus. Stop thinking about the deceased.”

Akira’s head jerked up at Beth’s voice, her chest still heaving from the storm inside her.

“Stop thinking about the deceased?” she repeated sharply, pushing herself to her feet. She swayed slightly but forced herself to stand tall in front of Beth. “Do you even hear yourself, Beth? Do you even care that people are dead because of us? It’s really our fault, and you don’t even feel sorry for them!”

Bethany’s face remained calm, almost indifferent, as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I care that you’re alive, Nia. That’s all that matters right now. Let the dead be dead. Besides, Thalia deserved it; she had it coming for a long time.”

“That’s not the point!” Akira’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “They were innocent! Thalia, the slaves—none of them deserved to die.”

“Yes, they didn’t deserve to die, but they’re dead. Now we’re the ones living, so can we stop talking about them?” Beth urged Akira. “We have a lot of work to do. We have to leave right now.”

With that, Akira wiped her eyes and adjusted her dress before following Beth out.

A few moments later, Akira arrived at Rex's room. Without knocking, she pushed the door open and forced her way inside.

Once she stepped in, the first figure she saw was Rex, sitting idly in a chair. She paused immediately; she had expected him to be outside with his playmates as usual. It was quite unusual to see him sitting alone in his room.

“I didn’t know you were in here,” she said in a low voice.

Rex nodded. “That’s fine…”

Akira glanced at him; he sounded too calm to be Rex. Something was wrong. She expected him to snap as usual and perhaps lash out at her, but he didn’t.

Well, she didn’t care—she had too much on her mind to think about Rex right now.

As soon as she moved to start scrubbing the floor, he jerked up from the chair.

“Nia,” he said, grabbing her attention. She refocused her gaze on him.

“I’ve been thinking of something,” he continued. “I was thinking of making one of the slaves my personal table… like she kneels before me, and I put my drinks on her back. She stays that way until I’m done. What do you think?”