Chapter 8

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Camila's POV

I woke up the following day, knowing it would be different.

My day off had finished, and I'd have to get back to work. That thought put me off in the morning. I gathered the strength to leave the room, to have breakfast downstairs.

-"Camila!"—Samantha caught up with me on the stairs—"How are you?"—She asked me.

-"I feel better, Sam. Ready for another day."—I said, giving her a fake smile.

We ate breakfast along with the other girls.

I didn't talk much during the meal, but that didn't seem to attract the attention of any of them, who were still chatting happily. I spent the rest of my time reading, making a pause only to go to the bathroom a few times and have lunch.

Then I would go back to bed and continue reading, sometimes shaken by my obsession with not being able to concentrate and start thinking about a certain person.

Night came and I got more discouraged than usual. Some girls had already went downstairs, so I started to fix myself. I took a bath, I chose the most discreet clothes that I could, I put some makeup on my wounds, trying to disguising them, and as if I were going to face my death, I went downstairs.

It didn't took long for my first client to choose me. A man on his forties. He seem excited as he conversed with me, trying futilely to make a connection between the two of us.

When we got to the room, his excitement seemed to cool down as he saw my bruises.

Unfortunately it wasn't enough to make him give up on me. Same thing happened with the second, third and fourth client.

They all looked at me hungrily, but when they got to see my state, they were discouraged. As soon as I noticed that my fourth client was already exhausted in bed, I got up and without waiting for him to leave, went to take a bath, to clean myself properly.

I brushed my teeth and rubbed my bruise cream on, as my body was completely scarred not only from the night before, but also from the four clients I'd had that night. I was already exhausted, I wanted to sleep, but it was still midnight, which meant that my work day was just beginning.

I came out of the bathroom and the man was no longer there.

Good.

I put on a yellow blouse with long sleeves, pants and closed toe shoes. Chloe would probably scold at me for the way I dressed, but I didn't really care. I didn't want anyone to see me, for anyone else to notice my presence.

I sat on my bed for a few minutes, staring blankly at the closed door to my room.

I don't want to go downstairs.

I thought.

-"But you need to go down"—I said to myself softly.

But I don't want.

-"And since when what you want matters?"

True...

I stared at the door for a few more seconds. I was sad and depressed. I was tired and my body still ached in almost every place.

-"Come on, Mila."—I said with a half-hearted tone—"Who knows if your prince or princess is waiting for you down there?"

The teasing tone of my words even made me laugh, a bitter laugh. I got out of bed and went downstairs to the hall once more.

As I started going downstairs, I looked at the place. More late, more crowded the atmosphere was. That night was no different.

Then I saw her.

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