Winifred struggled silently, hearing many voices around her and feeling hands touching her body. How many people were there? How many had touched her?
It felt like she was sinking into quicksand; the more she struggled, the deeper she sank. Her body felt sticky and dirty, making her want to vomit.
The tie around her eyes felt like it was strangling her neck. She was like a fish out of water, gasping for breath, struggling desperately.
“I don’t want…” to be with them… But it seemed too late; what had to happen had already happened. Was Leland standing nearby? What expression did he have on his face? Was it mockery, disgust, or interest?
She had tried to “seduce” Liam, imagining various outcomes, but she hadn’t expected this result.
To put it bluntly, she had brought this upon herself. She didn’t want to stay by Leland’s side and wanted to disgust him by finding another man. But Leland didn’t care and even found several men for her.
She no longer knew her worth in Leland’s eyes. Who could stand watching their woman being toyed with by other men? She had overestimated her importance to Leland; she was just a plaything, worthless and unimportant.
Gradually, Winifred gave up struggling. Her mind was hazy, as if waking from a nightmare. For a moment, she felt trapped in an illusion, but the pain in her body cruelly reminded her that this was real.
In broad daylight, the hotel room’s curtains were tightly drawn, blocking out all light. The indoor lights were bright but cold. The white light shone on her bruised body; Winifred looked like a doll stitched together multiple times, with wounds that would tear apart at the slightest pull.
Her tears had long dried up. She didn’t know how much time had passed; the tie soaked with tears was now dry on her face.
She opened her mouth, moving her lips as if saying something or calling someone’s name.
Had Leland forgotten she was afraid of the dark?
She needed a nightlight to sleep. When Leland slept with her, he wasn’t used to sleeping with the light on but accommodated her anyway.
When you love someone, you tolerate their habits. When you don’t love them anymore, their habits become a nuisance. When he tied the tie over her eyes and left her in darkness while bringing others to torment her, how could he care about her fear of the dark?
Suddenly, the tie was torn off her eyes, and the expected light stung them.
The skin around her eyes was chafed and painful from the tie.
This wasn’t a good time to open her eyes; once stimulated, they would tear up uncontrollably. Her eyes hurt, and she felt dizzy. If possible, she wanted to pass out and never wake up again.
But she couldn’t sleep. She forced her eyes open despite the pain; they looked hollow. Her pale face was streaked with tear marks; she slightly parted her lips as if lifeless.
Winifred’s gaze met Leland’s face; slowly, focus returned to her eyes. Besides Leland, there was no one else in the large room.
Except for the messy bed beneath her, everything else was as clean and tidy as when she first entered.
Leland wore a hotel robe and leaned over to untie Winifred’s wrists from the bedpost. “Remember the despair you just experienced, Winifred. I don’t mind bringing real people next time.”
She finally understood that it had been Leland tormenting her all along when she couldn’t see.
The pills he gave her weren’t painkillers but some kind of hallucinogen that made her imagine many men tormenting her.
Winifred remained silent; any focus in her eyes faded away again.
Her wrists bore deep marks from the ties. When Leland grabbed her arm to check the injuries on her wrist, it hung limply as if broken.
Leland knew Winifred wasn’t seriously hurt; he had held back some strength and knew her limits.
“Snap out of it,” Leland called out to her.
Winifred looked at the watch on her wrist. The anesthetic in her mouth hadn’t worn off completely; she spoke haltingly.
“Leland, you’re filthy.”
“Me?”
“Your heart is filthy like maggots in a dark gutter. Your body is dirty too… Every time you touch me, I feel contaminated by a virus that can’t be washed away… Today I’d rather you kill me quickly or let other men come… Leland, we are not on the same path anymore…”
Leland felt a sharp pain in his chest as if a porcupine had lodged there; he suddenly hated having a heart.
This kind of “bullying” wasn’t enough to break Winifred’s spirit. Her body might be weak, but not her heart.
Winifred called herself “cheap.” How was she cheap? A truly cheap person would have been scared long ago. Only she remained unafraid like a blind sheep charging into a lion’s den.
Leland placed his hand around Winifred’s neck and began to squeeze slowly. Such a slender neck-he could end her life with just a bit more pressure.
Would Winifred fear death?
She didn’t seem afraid; instead, a painful smile appeared on her lips.
Leland’s hand trembled first as he let go. He watched Winifred’s pale face turn red before she started coughing violently.
Her green dress lay torn on the floor like rags. Leland called for new clothes from the hotel staff who soon arrived with a bag of garments.
He clumsily dressed Winifred in clean clothes and carried her limp body out of the room to call for his driver.
The driver glanced cautiously at Winifred in Leland’s arms; unable to see her face, he couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive. “Mr. Burns, are we going to the hospital?”
“The cemetery.”
What did that mean? Was she dead and about to be buried?
The driver thought so until he saw Winifred move slightly in Leland’s arms and breathed a sigh of relief.
By the time they left the hotel, it was already dark-Winifred had glanced at the clock earlier: 7 PM. They arrived at the cemetery by 8 PM; it was eerie at night with tombstones everywhere.
Winifred didn’t understand why Leland brought her here until they reached a particular tombstone bearing Gregory’s name-her non-biological father’s name.
Why had Leland suddenly brought her here?
“Winifred,” he asked softly, “do you know how your father died? Do you want to know?”