Care to share?

"I have money, I'll give you all of it"

Thompson burst out in laughter, but unlike before, Theresa could tell that this time it wasn't out of mockery.

"Who said I want money?" He raised a brow. "If I'm so crazy about that, then I'll take your pennies and still sell you off"

"It's not just pennies I have" Theresa felt offended by how he characterized her hard-earned money as pennies. If only he knew.

"Oh, do you now," he chuckled. "But I don't want money." His expression turned serious, his voice low and husky. He let his gaze drift down her, lingering on the curves of her body, before returning to her face with his brows raised. "Let us go."

This time, Theresa followed without a word.

Walking toward the door, he looked over his shoulder. "Don't worry, you won't be branded like those women." She heard him say.

The quietness between them was unbroken as they walked. With Jason gone, their footsteps were the only sound that echoed through the empty hallway. Thompson walked ahead while Theresa followed a step behind, her eyes fixed on the floor. As they stopped in front of a cell, he began to sift through the keys in his hand, the soft jingling of the metal keys breaking the silence, while the redhead gazed at the cemented space behind the rusted metal bars.

Unlocking the bars, he pushed the creaky door open. "Are you hungry?" He asked, his voice a little softer than before.

Thoughts swirled in her mind, as she stepped into the cell. After what he had indirectly told her, she realized she had no one left to trust but herself. Yes, he was different from the rest and had promised to help her to not get branded like those women, but he was still a man. Apart from money, which he already has, she had nothing else to give and yet, she had asked him to help her. It was like gold, begging to not be sold.

She nodded.

A deep sigh escaped his lips. "This is all I can offer you for now."

She watched him unlock the bars, the metallic clang echoing off the cold stone walls. Once he was out of sight, she moved her attention to what he had given her. Although she told herself not to trust anyone seconds ago, his kind gesture swayed her heart. Her resolve was crumbling, leaving her feeling exposed. The events of the day had made her feel helpless, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of being utterly alone. Apart from the master who had bought her perfumes that morning, Thompson was the only one who had treated her with kindness. She knew her reliance on him would only grow stronger with time.

Remembering the master, who had bought her perfumes earlier that day, brought a faint smile to her lips for the first time in hours. Now, she wished she had asked the him to take her away from the town.

As her thoughts shifted from the master to her past, her jaw clenched and her free hand curled into a fist. Memories of those who had sold her flooded her mind and she seethed with anger. She would make each one of them pay, all of those who had turned their backs on her.

Theresa walked away from the metal bars and sat on the cold ground, resting her back against the wall. She unwrapped the bread Thompson had given her, the scent filling her nostrils. One thing she knew was that he could've decided to let her starve, but he didn't. No matter how she looked at it, Thompson remained her only hope. The only problem was that he was hard to persuade.

She sighed, pushing aside her thoughts to concentrate on the simple meal before her.

A certain guard unlocked the cell bars and a woman, dressed in the same attire as Theresa stepped in. A fellow slave.

Unlike the others she had seen that day, this woman was remarkably clean and smelled fresh, as if she had just bathed. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and her beauty was undeniable. Her gown was intact, unlike those of the women she had seen earlier, and her eyes lacked the haunted look of someone who had endured unimaginable hardships. She spared Theresa a brief glance before refocusing her attention on the guard who had accompanied her.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to inform me." The guard said to the woman.

"Of course I won't." She replied with a sly smile.

The guard continued, "I replaced the wood in the fireplace. It'll take some time for the cell to warm up, but it should last through the night."

As the guard spoke, Theresa's gaze drifted to the small fireplace, which she had barely noticed before.

"Thank you." The woman replied. She watched the guard depart, before turning her attention to the slave who sat in her cell. As she took a step closer, the flickering light from the fireplace danced across Theresa's features, allowing the woman to take in every detail of her appearance.

"You're Thompson's, right?" She asked, though her tone implied she already knew the answer, but the redhead nodded anyway. With a confident stride, she closed the distance between them and extended her hand. "Care to share?" She asked with raised brows.