~Dahlia's POV~
Madame Berlin has been lethargic.
Ever since the death of her sweetheart— the death that no one seemed to suspect I knew anything of— she's been locked up in her room, sobbing and refusing to eat; and at first, I'd tried to brush off her attitude as that of one who was mourning, hoping that she would return to her usual self by the end of the second day or less.
Apparently, I was wrong.
It's been five days!
After I finished with my chores for the day, I spotted some other slave girls chatting amongst themselves, and usually, I would try my hardest to avoid them, but not today. Something bugged at me… clawed at my chest.
Madame Berlin was not fine.