keep warm. There were holes in my shoes and the snow used to get in until I couldn't feel my feet at all."
"Oh that's very saaad," Gambol said and Twelve shrugged, making my heart bunch up in my throat.
I wanted to throttle the people who'd done that to her, tear them limb from limb. My blood was heating just thinking about it and I felt my fangs prick my tongue.
"After a few years, I guess I got used to it," Twelve went on. "I was always alone...but I’d sing sometimes just to keep myself company."
I didn't know she could sing...
"Sometimes I swear the mice used to sing back," she laughed, but there was a sadness to it that made me ache. "Anyway, this one day we got this letter in the mail inviting us all to a party. It specifically mentioned that every member of the household was supposed to attend and I'd dreamed for years what it would be like to go to something like that. To meet other people...make friends. I managed to get a dress together using the material we had in the sewing room and though it wasn't perfect, it was good enough that I knew I'd pass for respectable. On the night of the party, I was so excited, I went downstairs to leave with my stepmother and sisters, but they..." She teared up and I swear I'd been holding my breath for a full minute. "They told me I couldn't go. And that I looked hideous in the dress I'd made. I was so humiliated..." She dabbed at her eyes and Mrs Gambol made a note on her clipboard with a sad shake of her head. "But after they left, out of nowhere, my godmother knocked on the door with a pumpkin in her arms and-"
"Hang the fuck on," I boomed, the penny dropping in my head like it was a damn slot machine. I am such a fucking idiot.
I rose from my seat, the legs squeaking as they were pushed across the wooden floor behind me, earning me the attention of everyone in the room. "You're telling the Cinderella story." I pointed an accusing finger at Twelve and she parted her lips, looking offended.
"I am not!" she gasped, turning to Mrs Gambol. "Does he normally come in here accusing us of telling lies?" She held a hand to her heart like she was so fucking aghast at me calling her out on her bullshit. But I was not gonna let this fly.
"Oh w-well he's normally not in attendance. It's for his report," Mrs Gambol stuttered, shrinking under my furious gaze.
"She's having you on, Barbara," I told the idiot therapist who was lapping this up. "That's what she does." I rounded on Rosalie, baring my fangs. "I see right through you, Twelve. If you don't cooperate in this class, I'll write you up to Pike. Last warning."
Twelve had the audacity to continue looking mortified, shrinking back down into her seat and poking her bottom lip out a little. Then she released a sob that made even Plunger frown sympathetically.
"Really, Officer," Gambol said sternly, raising her eyes to mine as she tried not to lose her nerve. "This is a safe space for the inmates. You cannot interrupt them or accuse them or anything of the sort. I will mention it to the warden if you have another outburst."
My teeth snapped together and she flinched as my predatory gaze bored into her. Mrs Gambol would do it though. I could see it in her eyes. So I had to hope Twelve had gotten the message.
"Fine," I snarled, moving back to my seat and dropping into it with a growl.
The curse mark on my wrist itched and burned and fire was starting to snake its way into my limbs. I stole a surreptitious glance at the mark and fear trickled into me at the sight of it growing further up my arm. I tugged my sleeve back down and locked my jaw, trying to focus on anything else. But when the next inmate stood up and Twelve paused her fake crying long enough to toss me a mocking smirk, I lost my shit.
"Get out!" I barked, rising from my seat and directing her from the room.
"Officer Cain," Gambol gasped. "You can't just - just-"
"I'm her CO so I can do whatever the fuck I think is in her best interest." I marched toward Twelve, gripping her arm and dragging her across the room, practically kicking the