Beautiful posture, Amber, just beautiful.”

I looked at my friend and gave her an encouraging smile as she grinned back and twirled around the room. She was always like this when she got a compliment, a sense of almost childlike happiness taking over and making her prettier than ever as she glowed with pride. The teacher merely smiled at her pirouette, and I transitioned into fourth position as he rounded me up, correcting my posture.

“What’s going on, Rose?” he asked me softly, tsk-ing under his breath. “You are completely out of it today. Very unlike you, my dear girl.”

I cringed at the words and turned my head away, unwilling to look at Marchante and admit what was going on.

A couple of months ago, Thorn had brought in a teacher for Amber and me, and we took daily lessons with Marchante to keep our strength. I had a whole new set of dancing equipment - satin ballet shoes with so many pairs that I could change them daily and never have to repair a hole in the fabric again, and I had tutus, leotards, leg warmers and all the things I lusted after in London. But what was missing now was the passion, the love for dancing that I had felt every day I’d been alive, and that had depleted into nothingness in the time I’d spent at the Mansion.

I was suddenly jealous of Amber, of her perfect posture and the easiness she seemed to have with dance, both things that felt out of grasp for me at the moment. I slid away from the barre and miserably wondered if I’d ever be able to get that feeling back. The piano music stopped as I left the studio, walking toward the makeshift changing room and doing my best not to throw a tantrum, even though every part of me wanted to be the dramatic dancer that lived inside my heart, the one Thorn had cut off from her audience, rendering her useless and withering away.

Amber raced after me into the changing room, and I sat down with a huff as I moved to undo my slippers. I was tired, my heart heavy knowing I couldn’t dance the way I used to anymore. The magic was gone for me, the feeling of elation when I stepped on stage diminished, because now I only danced for Thorn. Gone was the audience, gone were the flowers people brought to me after the performance. All I had left was my yearning to once again stand center stage and dance for my admirers and to feel like a star again.

“Hey,” Amber caught up with me, touching her hand to mine gently and giving me a worried look. “Everything all right with you? Marchante said we can take a break for today and get back to it tomorrow. But I’m worried…”

“It’s all right,” I said, knowing I didn’t sound convincing at all. But I didn’t want Amber to know that I was struggling. She was already in a big enough mess, and I felt guilty every day for her being at the Mansion. “I’ll be fine, I’m just… a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

“I understand,” she said simply, giving me a bright smile.

That was the great thing about Amber and what had brought us close a long time ago in London, which now felt light years away. She was kind and understanding, always willing to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. She was never jealous or envious of my success and was always happy to push me forward. Since we’d gotten to the Mansion, things had been a little awkward between us, though, and I often wondered how much she knew about the real life behind bars.

Her room was different than mine - no bars on the windows, no lock on her door. She was free to roam the house as was I, but her privileges extended to life outside the Mansion, to the beautiful beach outside and the surrounding grounds of the building. I was jealous of it, still not completely certain why Thorn wouldn’t let me roam the grounds when it was nearly impossible to escape him anyway. He’d told me time after time I’d be punished for every step I took away from him in an effort to escape, and I knew full well he’d never let me get away.

“Tell me about the outside,” I said to Amber impulsively. “The beach. The ocean. I want to know.”

She gave me a curious look, and once again I found myself wondering how much she knew about the Mansion. I knew Thorn had filled her in on some of it, and surely she knew I wasn’t there willingly, but she’d never mentioned it to me. I wanted desperately to confide in her, but I didn’t want her to be punished because of what I’d tell her. She had gone from being my confidante to a friend I desperately wanted to be closer to but feared the consequences too much to take the next step.

“The ocean?” she repeated, and I nodded, pulling my knees to my chest as I settled on a chair.

She smiled and pulled up a chair of her own next to mine, mimicking my position.

“It’s beautiful,” she admitted. “I have never seen anything quite like it. I haven’t gone for a swim yet, but the girls say it should be warm enough in a couple of weeks to do it.”

A silence fell between us as I wondered whether I’d ever be allowed to go outside again. I’d spent some time on a balcony - they’d allowed me the small mercy to soak up some sun and help my too-pale complexion.

But I still felt trapped - always with a guard standing watch or sometimes Pia looking at me with contemptuous eyes that spoke plainly of the dislike she felt for me.

“I have to ask,” Amber finally said, and I looked up at her curiously. “I… I don’t completely understand what’s happening here.”

I stayed quiet, waiting for her to go on.

“It’s… it’s not a ballet training camp, is it?” she asked gently, and I shook my head slowly, looking down at the beautiful hardwood floor.

I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I didn’t want Amber to notice. I felt responsible for her being there, guilty because she was made to stay in the Mansion with me. I wanted to explain so badly, yet I feared what would happen to her if she knew the whole truth. I knew what was going to happen to the other girls in the house.

They would be sold to the highest bidder.

I couldn’t imagine a fate like that for Amber, my innocent friend from back home. Even though we were the same age, it felt like she was still a young girl while I’d been forced to become a woman, and I couldn’t doom her to a fate similar to my own.

“It’s not,” I whispered, hating myself for giving her the truth that would no doubt be her downfall. “It’s something else.”

“I had a feeling,” she said. “Will… do you think we’ll ever get out of here? Do you think they’ll let us go?”

I looked into her beautiful eyes and struggled with my answer.

Amber was a beautiful girl, a gorgeous redhead with porcelain pale skin and a pretty, petite body. I’d seen the way the guards in the Mansion looked at her and did my best to keep them away, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to watch over her forever. Sooner or later, one of them would slip through the cracks, and she would be lost, just as I had been when Thorn took over my body.

“Not me,” I replied finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave. I don’t think he’ll let me.”

“Thorn?” she asked softly, and I found myself nodding.

I’d wondered what she thought about the man who had taken me. They hadn’t interacted much, but he seemed to treat her somewhat like a younger sister. For that I was grateful - it meant he would protect her from any harm that could come to her in the house.

“He… cares about you,” she said, and I responded with a sad smile that spoke volumes. “I can tell. The way he looks at you… he must feel very deeply about you.”

We were avoiding the elephant in the room, the ever-present question that neither of us wanted to address.

Why had Thorn taken me? And what was going to happen to Amber?

“I wish I had all the answers,” I finally said. “I wish I understood what they’re trying to do here. I don’t know why Thorn brought you here. I don’t know if you will be able to leave. And every day, I hate myself for being responsible for you being here. I’m so sorry, Amber. I truly am.”

I felt tears burning my eyes, and I turned my head to the side, not wanting her to see how emotional I was feeling because of the turn of events.

“Hey,” Amber said softly. “Let’s take things one day at a time. Marchante is an incredible coach. My dancing has gotten so much better since I’ve been here.”

It was true. She connected with our new teacher and blossomed under his slightly less strict approach. I, on the other hand, missed Madame more than I ever thought I would.

She’d always been especially strict with me, but now that I was training with someone else, I found myself wishing I’d been more grateful when I’d had the chance to work with her. I knew she wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I felt powerful under her strict approach; it suited me. I struggled to find the same connection with Marchante, a kind older man who never went too hard on me. But Amber loved it.

A sudden desire to get away from everything overtook me, and I glanced around the room to make sure we were alone. The door to the new dancing studio was left ajar, but I ignored it, leaning over to Amber to whisper in her ear.

“I want to leave,” I told her. “I want to get away from here. I want to go back to my life in London. I don’t want to stay here forever. Are you with me?”

She gave me a surprised look as I squeezed her hand, needing her to agree with my plan. My eyes begged her to respond, and her own danced over my gaze, trying to decipher if I was being serious.

“Get out of here?” she whispered. “Go back to London?”

I nodded.

“But we have everything here…” she went on. “Do you really remember London? Do you remember the dreary weather? How poor we were? We could barely pay for our food.”

“But there were opportunities,” I insisted. “The chance to become someone… To be a dancer. To go to auditions. To dance!”

“We can dance here,” Amber said softly. “You dance for Thorn, don’t you?”

I blinked away the tears. She didn’t understand. I pulled my hand away, but the moment I did, she grabbed it back and looked into my eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” she said softly. “I’ll do what you need me to do. I’m always here for you.”

I nodded, feeling more emotional than ever.

“You’re a good friend,” I told Amber, and we exchanged heartfelt smiles before finally changing into our regular clothes.

I didn’t want to tell her the truth. The truth that I wanted to run away, because I wasn’t only worried about myself - I was worried about her, too, convinced she’d be sold or worse if we stayed at the Mansion.

I wasn’t going to run because I was selfish.

I was going to run, because I wanted to protect us both.