Chapter 2 - Dolls

Margot's POV

The door clicked shut behind me.

The final reminder that I was trapped.

And just like that-

Silence swallowed me whole.

No shouting.

No engines.

No guards barking orders.

Nothing.

Just... quiet.

My back hit the door before I even realised I'd stopped moving.

And then, I broke.

A sob tore out of me so violently it made my whole body shake, my knees buckling as I slid down the wood, collapsing onto the floor.

Finally.

Finally, it all came out.

Everything I'd been holding in since this morning.

Since the cell.

Since leaving him.

My chest heaved painfully, each breath sharp and uneven as tears poured down my face, blurring everything around me.

I curled forward slightly, my bound muscles screaming in protest as I brought my hands up - they were free now - but still aching.

My wrists.

Raw.

Red.

Angry.

I rubbed at them desperately, massaging the skin like it would undo what had been done, like it would take away the sting, the marks, the memory of those damn cuffs digging in for hours like I was some dangerous criminal...

I cried harder.

Ugly cries.

Broken and helpless.

My forehead dropped forward, nearly touching my knees as my shoulders shook with it.

I didn't even try to stop it.

Didn't try to be strong.

Not anymore.

Because what was the point?

Everything had been ripped away from me anyway.

Time passed.

I didn't know how long.

Minutes?

An hour?

It all blurred together in the haze of exhaustion and grief.

Until eventually, the sobs slowed.

Not because the pain eased, but because my body simply didn't have the energy left to keep going.

My breathing steadied into shaky inhales and long, uneven exhales.

My throat burned.

My head throbbed.

My eye pulsed.

I sniffed, dragging the back of my hand across my cheeks, wincing at how tender my skin felt.

Then, slowly...

I looked up.

Really looked.

At the house.

My house, apparently.

The first thing I noticed?

It was too clean.

Immaculately so.

Like nobody had ever even lived here.

The walls were painted a soft beige, decorated with bright, cheerful paintings that felt completely out of place with how I felt inside.

There was a staircase ahead of me.

Cream carpet.

Perfect.

Untouched.

I pushed myself up slowly, my legs still unsteady beneath me.

Was I... supposed to live here?

Alone?

The thought made my stomach twist.

From a cramped cell...

To this?

A whole house?

It didn't make sense.

Nothing about this made sense.

Maybe this was their way of compensating? Of making up for dragging us here like criminals?

Or maybe...

These houses had always been here.

Military housing? Holding families? Lives that had once existed here before we were shoved into them like replacement lab rats.

The idea made my skin crawl.

I didn't want it.

Any of it.

I'd go back to that cell in a heartbeat if it meant-

No.

Don't.

Don't go there again.

I forced myself to move.

The first room on the left caught my attention.

A living room.

Small, but... perfect.

Too perfect.

Two plush pale pink sofas sat opposite each other, the cushions untouched, the fabric pristine against soft grey walls.

A TV hung neatly on the wall.

I blinked at it.

A TV.

My own TV?

The idea felt foreign.

Unreal.

Suspicious...

I stepped closer slowly, my eyes scanning the room until I spotted the remote sitting neatly on the coffee table.

My fingers hesitated as I reached for it.

Like touching it might trigger something.

An alarm.

A consequence.

But nothing happened.

So I clicked it and watched the screen flicker to life.

A title appeared.

"Military Fixed."

I frowned slightly.

What did that even mean?

The screen shifted again, before menus appeared.

Rows of shows, movies, options...

Controlled options? Pre-approved?

Of course.

Even this... wasn't freedom.

It was another form of control.

My jaw tightened.

I switched it off.

I didn't want it.

Didn't want to enjoy anything about this place.

I left the room quickly.

Further down the hall - a kitchen.

White marble countertops stretched across the space, gleaming under the fancy light.

A large dining table sat to the side, six chairs neatly tucked in like they were waiting for a family that would never come.

French doors lined the back wall, revealing a perfectly manicured garden outside.

Decking.

Chairs.

Sunlight.

It should have looked peaceful.

But It didn't.

It felt staged.

Fake.

But then - I spotted the fridge.

Huge.

Unnaturally so.

I paused in front of it, suddenly aware of how dry my throat felt...

How thirsty I was...

I stepped forward, pulling it open, the cold air rushing out at me...

I sighed seeing the inside - bottled water!

Even some fresh fruit.

I grabbed a bottle without thinking, twisting the cap open quickly before bringing it to my lips.

I drank.

Fast.

Desperate.

Like I hadn't had water in days.

The cool liquid burned down my throat, but it felt good.

So good.

I didn't stop until the bottle was empty, exhaling shakily, lowering it.

Better.

Slightly...

I closed the fridge and moved on.

A bedroom sat just off the hall.

Simple.

A small double bed.

A dresser.

Two side tables with lamps.

Everything perfectly placed.

Everything untouched.

I checked the dresser.

Empty.

Of course it was.

So I turned toward the stairs.

Upstairs felt... bigger.

A bathroom first.

Bright white and spotless with a walk-in shower, and even a bath.

A bath...

Something I would have killed for back in the prison.

And now?

I didn't even feel excited seeing it.

Just... numb.

Two more rooms.

One with twin beds.

Basic.

Empty.

And then-

The last door.

I pushed it open slowly.

And froze.

The master bedroom.

It was huge.

Ridiculously huge.

The bed alone was massive, far bigger than anything I'd ever slept in before, dressed in pristine white sheets that looked like they'd never been touched.

A vanity table sat in the corner with a polished mirror. Perfect.

I moved toward it slowly, my fingers brushing lightly over the surface.

Then I pulled open the drawer underneath... and stopped.

Makeup.

Dozens of products.

Neatly arranged.

Brand new...

My stomach turned.

Why brand new?

Why was this here?

For me?

Like I was supposed to... what?

Play house?

Play dress up?!

I slammed the drawer shut.

Hard.

Annoyed.

Unsettled.

I turned toward the wardrobe next, and when I opened it, my breath caught...

Clothes.

Rows of them.

Perfectly hung.

But sickly styled...

Mostly dresses, summery ones, different styles with pristine shoes neatly lined below...

What the hell was going on here?!

Everything... was ready.

For me?!

My chest tightened.

This wasn't just housing.

This took preparation.

Planning.

They hadn't just brought us here...

They'd set us up...

Like dolls.

Placed into a life we didn't choose.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

And for the first time since stepping into this house, I felt something shift.

Something darker.

This wasn't just a temporary stop.

This was something much bigger.

And I had a feeling...

That we weren't getting out of it anytime soon...