Chapter 19 A Servant's Supper

• It had been a week since Theo’s cruel punishment. A week without food, and the toll it had taken on my body was unimaginable. My face felt pale, my skin stretched tight over my bones, and my stomach constantly twisted with hunger. I had grown so lean, I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the small mirror above the dresser.
• The bruise were slowly fading, but they were still there. Yet, the hunger was worse. My entire being ached for food, for something—anything—to fill the empty pit inside me. But there was nothing.
• The weakness in my legs had only gotten worse over the days. I felt light-headed often, like I might collapse any moment. Every movement was sluggish, every breath shallow. The thirst was unbearable, too, but I had learned that asking for water only brought more trouble. So, I lay in the cold room, trying to distract myself from the gnawing pain in my stomach.