The first day without food wasn’t so bad. I stayed curled on the bed, back turned to the tray Damien left, refusing to even look at it. My stomach growled a few times, but I ignored it. Pride and anger were stronger than hunger. Every time the door opened and he stepped in, I pressed myself against the wall and stared at him in silence. No words. No pleas. Just cold defiance.
He tried gentle at first. “Elena, please. You need to eat something. Even just the bread.”
I didn’t answer. I turned my face away and closed my eyes until he left.
By the second day, the hunger had sharpened into a constant, gnawing ache. My head felt light, my limbs heavy. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. I drank some water from the bathroom tap when the thirst became unbearable, but I refused the food. Dam
