She was rotting away. She could feel it.

Erasmus had left her there to rot. After everything.

She was following what she believed to be best. He was the one who had taught her to do that.

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Her eyes were closed but she knew, she knew that he was in her cell. Watching her. Waiting for something. Something that wouldn’t come. He wanted an explanation, but she didn’t have one.

She couldn’t explain to him that there was some deep tether in her gut that his plan would go wrong. He was too proud for her to say anything like that. She couldn’t explain to him that she threw away what he saw as his future on a “gut instinct.”

So he continued to stare and she continued pretending to sleep.

She could hear him shift, she could hear him breathing. It was making her nervous. She wanted to tell him but she couldn’t.

She just couldn’t.