The Blue Room

The room was suffocating. Everything was blue; the walls, the light, the windows. Blue. Cara had never known blue could feel like this. She had heard people say black was suffocating, but this... this was worse.

It was cold here. Always cold. And the food they brought her - crepes, too sweet, too little. Just two tiny things, and that was all. Water? No, no water. There was a leaking tap, but the water stank, tasted foul, but it was all she had. And a stupid blue mat.

Twelve days. Twelve days with only the blue as company.

Cara sat in the corner, trying to think, trying to figure out how she had ended up here. Why? Her mind drifted to Papà and the ambush. It had turned out to be someone from the north, someone above their world, someone too rich to have any real connections.

.....But there he was, walking into her room like it was nothing.

His eyes were the first thing Cara noticed. They were impossible. Not blue. Not really. They were too light, like the coldest iceberg in the deepest ocean and they were neither gray. There was something about them. They were almost blind, like he was losing his sight, but she couldn’t tell for sure.

He walked in like someone who was blind, too careful. Only he had no walking cane and no hesitation. It was like he had memorized the room, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were locked on the wall.

“My family will be coming over,” he said, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “I told them I had a Donna, so you’ll be my Donna.”

The words were final, like he was done with her already. Cara didn’t speak. She wouldn’t speak. She wondered if he was deaf too, or maybe he just didn’t notice that she wasn’t Agata. The name was wrong. They weren’t even twins. They weren’t the same. Agata was something else. Someone else.

“Do you understand?” he said, his voice colder now. More like a command than a question. “You have no choice. Do it for water, for food, for a bed. If you want those, you’ll act. You’ll behave.”

Cara nodded. She didn’t know why she nodded, but she did.

His voice had something that pulled at her, like a rope around her neck. It was commanding, demanding, and in a strange way, her body responded to it. But she didn’t trust him. She wouldn’t trust him.

Then he moved closer. “Do you hear me, Agata?”

Cara nodded again, more out of reflex than understanding. She felt something shift inside her, an urge to submit. But she fought it. She fought it because she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

He stepped forward, and she felt his hand move toward her. Without thinking, she twisted away, desperate to make sure his hand didn’t touch her. But it landed on the nape of her neck before she could stop it. Cold fingers. Her body shuddered, and she jerked away. He stood up straight, his eyes back to facing the wall.

Cara was sure now. He was blind. There was no other explanation. His gaze never moved from that spot, like he couldn’t see anything at all.

Wait, should she test that?

“I’m not Agata,” she said, her voice low.

He laughed; a low, dark sound that made her skin crawl. “You think I’m a fool?”

Well, yeah, she would have said. “No,” Cara growled, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t appreciate you calling me that.” At least, let her sister rest in peace in Gehenna without her name being called all the time.

But Edmondo just shrugged, like she wasn’t even worth his time. “Fine. If you want a new name, you’ll get a new name.”

Then he walked out of the room, leaving the door open, like he was done with her.

'Tchh! What new name? Cara is not Agata,' she mused mentally.

---

Finally, Cara was out of that blue room.

Honestly, she couldn’t care less about the fact that she was free from it. It wasn’t like she was suddenly a princess being freed from a tower or something out of a fairy tale. But she was never going back there. She would do anything to avoid it.

A dress was thrown at her by the brown-eyed bastard who followed the blue-eyed man everywhere. Speaking of blue… fuck, her mind was still dizzy thanks to the blue room.

"Geez, I’m never going back there again," she muttered to herself as she started to dress. It was a satin dress. Straight. Elegant. It covered her from head to toe, and it was blue. Of course, it was blue. Torture.

She pulled it on and adjusted the V-neck, noticing how the straps barely held the dress up. The back was completely open, exposing her skin to the waist.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. It didn’t feel like her. She didn’t know what felt like her anymore. But this? This wasn’t it.

Cara wasn’t really great with heels, but she tried to stand tall in them, just staring at herself for a moment. She didn’t look anything like she used to. Papà would’ve freaked out seeing her in a dress like this, so, she never wore one. None of his daughters did.

She glanced at her reflection again. The shape of her body... it was similar to Agata’s, and she couldn’t escape that. They had practically been raised together. They had been like Bonny and Clyde, the sismance version. Loving each other. So, yeah, it was okay for people to confuse them sometimes, right? Not that it mattered. Not anymore. Agata was dead now.

But she wasn’t Agata. She refused to be.

Cara walked toward the door, and that’s when she saw him. The brown-eyed bastard.

She muttered under her breath, "What do you want now?"

"I heard you," he said, grinning like the smug jerk he was to her. He was the only fool who came into the blue room to feed her toddler snacks - crêpes.

"I never said I didn't want you to hear me," Cara shot back, the words coming out sharper than she expected.

He grinned wider. "Ah, you talk?"

Cara just stared at him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. He was too handsome. Too much charm. If she wasn’t in this situation, she’d probably fall for it. But not now. Not today.

"Be on your best behavior," he said, guiding her down the hall.

"Best behavior?" she scoffed. "That’s what you tell someone whose happy life you stole? Spare me."

He stopped and looked at her like she’d said something ridiculous. "Capturing you is the biggest luck you can ever have in your life."

Cara glared at him. "You don’t say that to me. I lived in comfort. Didn’t you see the mansion my Papà built? Or are your eyes failing you too?" "Argue me."

He squinted at her, not even flinching. "Comfort? Mr. La Rosa was going to sell you out anyway, to the most useless of them all."

Hearing that, she froze in place.

"Scusa?" (Excuse me?)