WHEN I GOT HOME, I was surprised and suspicious at the same time when Mrs. Heathers prepared a grand and luxurious dinner for us. It's almost confusing when all the foods are my favorite, one of the things that I always dreamed of eating, and yet it's here in front of me, prepared by her, by my real mother. I stared at her for a long time and saw a few burns on her delicate fingers, hidden by the thick layers of bondage.

"Take your seat, my child." She ordered lightly, putting her brown curls behind her ear.

Just the thought of being near her scared me. I wished that she would take that as a fair warning to spare my meal, but of course, she wouldn't. Her eyes began to plead for my presence. "But I'm not, um, hungry..." I stammered.

"You must be; after all, you just got home from School. And besides, I can't just throw this all away," Mrs. Heathers challenged me.

I finally gave up and sat on the other end of the long rectangular table, twenty-five feet away from her. With a heavy heart, I started to fill my plate, which satisfied Mrs. Heathers.

"Your teacher called."

I stop in my tracks. And tried my hardest not to frown, looking at Mrs. Heathers, who seemed calm and soft-hearted despite the nervousness she always gave me. And it's one of the few reasons I have made when I started to hate her, "Pardon?" I asked, looking everywhere but her. Mrs. Heathers smiled and took a sip from her glass of wine.

"Oh, Mary Jane, It's not what you think," she chuckled and put down the glass. "Actually, your history teacher called. Mr. Knitz and he's very much delighted by your manners and would gladly tutor you without any payment, I mean, if, um, that's fine with you," she asked, confused by her mumbling.

I look at Mrs. Heathers as if she had just said something foreign behind her sleeves, which is unfathomable, in fact, because I would never have expected Sir Alfred to like my manners after my improper etiquette when I slept during his class and talked about strange and unwrapped philosophy after that. "It's fine with me, Mrs. Heathers. But will you allow me to go home late in the evening? Because I'm afraid that you have a curfew system in your house-"

"Our house," she corrected. "And don't worry, there's no curfew in here. You can go home whatever time you want." She smiled.

"Thank you, Mrs. Heathers."

I started to eat the food on my plate, ignoring Mrs. Heather's stares, looking in my direction as if she was anticipating that I would complement her food and deciding not to touch her homemade meal. "So, how's the food? Did you like it?" She asked worriedly, watching my dreadful expression. Figures, I thought to myself.

"It tastes good, but I'm already full," I excused myself, hoping she would just let me go. But her eyes told me she didn't like my idea. She stood up from her seat and settled beside my chair.

"Mary Jane," she began. "Are you afraid of me?" Her eyes showed hurt, and I suddenly felt guilty and selfish. Knowing that I had made my mother into this situation, I bit my lip and turned my stare at the tablecloth.

"Yes,"

THERE WAS SILENCE as soon as I got inside my math class. Almost all my classmates looked at me as if I had done something wrong. But Alex was still there at our table, sleeping. This gave me a sigh of relief—maybe Mr. Hopkins announced that I was an irresponsible student, not being able to attend his class for the past three weeks.

I finally sat in my place, looking strangely at my seatmate; I wondered what he was doing every night. And his sleeping habits didn't change at all. Mr. Hopkins came in after that, giving us tons of seatwork before excusing himself, having to attend a teacher's emergency meeting.

"Oh my," I muttered under my breath, realizing that I hadn't brought my books with me, only my math notebook. I turned around and saw a blonde girl giggling while talking to a brunette girl. Both of them didn't seem interested in doing our seatwork. "Pardon, but can I borrow your book? I promise that I'll be quick on copying," I asked, looking at the brunette.

The brunette raised her brow, and her red eyes gleamed. "I'm terribly sorry, but mine's different," she said before she signaled the blonde to leave the table and sit beside their group of acquaintances.

I bit my lip and turned in front of myself, surprised when there was a Math book. Curiously opening the first page, I saw Alex's name printed on it. I steal a glance, and his hand's position looks like he had just pushed the book towards me, though his dark eyes are still closed.

English was my second subject, and Esmeralda was surprised when she saw me. Now that I had managed to attend our School early after three weeks' time, she gleamed, holding my hands. "What happened? Did Mr. Gibson lessen your words?" she asked.

"Um, no, actually, I didn't sleep last night. And I think it's why there's no detention room today." I said, settling down at our place before our English teacher came in, smiling before greeting us.

"Good morning, class. I have a very special announcement today. And I think that all of you might enjoy this upcoming project," The teacher smiled and began to write something on the whiteboard. Esmeralda tapped my shoulders, and her coffee-brown eyes rolled in sarcasm.

"She's going to force us to produce another theatrical play," she spilled, looking annoyed and exhausted. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why Esmeralda hated the idea. The theatrical play is not bad; it sounds beautiful and classical to me. And I didn't see any flaws in the speculative project.

"This year's play is The Tempest. I've chosen Mary Jane Heathers as Miranda and Reid Sin as her Prospero. The other minor and major characters and schedule of practices will be posted on the bulletin board."

My breathing almost stopped when she said my name. And yet, I hadn't done any plays before. Esmeralda noticed my stiffness, and she whispered something in my ears. "Good luck with Reid. He may be rude and ill-tempered, but he can make you feel that his act was almost real."

THE LUNCH BREAK started, and I decided to visit the music room. I could even hear the piano from the deserted hallway. As I expected, Dominic was already playing Chopin's piece as I got inside and settled beside him.

"You're early today, Mary." He said softly; his voice gave me shivers from its deep, rich tone. And I wondered how he'd manage to do that simultaneously.

"My English teacher surprised me today, something that has never been my league."

He stopped playing seeming to look like I had just gotten his full attention.

"Tell me more about it."

"It's a theatrical play," I said. "And our English teacher chose me as the leading character. Our play was called The Tempest." I watched Dominic's stir of emotions but only saw an interest in his eyes. He closed the case of the piano, seemingly calm and well-collected.

"The Tempest is one of the alluring plays in the classical genre. But plays here in Mastema are different, Mary… they liked it when it was dark and seductive; they might even require you to kiss someone else's tongue," he explained. I tried to remain calm, but my face had already drained its color.

"But I never kissed someone before; I didn't even know what it feels like to play with tongues-" I frowned and felt ridiculed that our English teacher and Esmeralda hadn't warned me about that. "And I didn't want to be ridiculous when they made me do it and stand there with embarrassment," I grumbled.

He thinks for a couple of seconds before standing up from our chair. Leaving the music room, I had the urge to follow Dominic, but I chose to stay here, waiting patiently. He returned after two or three minutes, holding something in his hands before he sat back from our chair.

"Open your mouth," he ordered. I unconsciously followed without hesitation. Dominic's dark eyes flickered, and his rosy, thin lips curved. He traced his long, warm fingers against my lips before putting a cold, sweet cherry against my tongue. "Good girl," he said adoringly, "now try to tie the knots using your tongue."

I did what he said, but I ended up breaking the stem. I exhaled in defeat and shook my head. "It's hard. And I didn't know how it would look." I complained, biting down the remaining cherry chunks.

He took a single cherry from the plate, inserting it inside his mouth, looking at my eyes intently, savoring the taste before he pulled out his tongue one and a half seconds later, revealing a perfectly tied cherry knot. And flickered it back inside. "That is what it would look like," he said softly. Now try another one, Mary."

Dominic gently parted my lips before he inserted another cherry, tracing my bottom lip. "If you learned that simple practice, you will learn how to play the game because I can't touch you yet, Mary. You might hate me if I did."

I tried to flicker my tongue in a different direction before the knot was tied up, flushing before I showed it to Dominic. His raven hair fell as he leaned his head, taunting me before brushing my blonde hair backward using his long fingers. "You are a fast learner, Mary," he said. I'm delighted that you're my submissive."

AFTER I ATE MY DINNER, the mansion was dimmed, and the maids were already cleaning up. I walked upstairs, planning to change clothes and take my rest, but I stopped in front of Mrs. Heather's room—it was already dark, and she was already fast asleep.

Her appearance looked pale and exhausted, and I suddenly felt guilty, knowing that part of her exhaustion was me. She's also afraid of something that I quite figured out just now. As if sensing my presence, her eyes slowly opened, and her lips curved into a warm smile when she saw me—and I smiled back before proceeding into my room.

I can face my fear of doubt, but she can never face her fear, which is the fear of loss.