Tilly POV
Boy found me.
I was sitting by the river, trying to wrap my mind around what hitting Cora-James meant for my neck.
My dress was torn from escaping through the window. It had caught on a sharp edge and it had ripped.
My hair was a tangled mess. Like a mad woman's own. I wasn't even sure if I owned a comb. Perhaps my mother sold that too.
She was good at that. Selling things.
My eyes were red from crying. Partly due to Cora-James' threat. Partially due to the fact that I didn't know what happened in whorehouses.
It must be worse than scrubbing dirty stinky floor for Cora-James to threaten me with it.
"Muffins"
I looked up. Boy was standing there, his hair messy, his cheeks flushed from running. His eyes were so blue.
Seeing him made my stomach squeeze a little. I didn't want to go to no whorehouse. Because it meant being far away from him.
"Hey," He was by my side in an instant. "Why are you sad?"
I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about that.
