Maltreated

The days that followed were a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. It was clear that Liam's memory had partially returned, yet the inconsistencies in his behavior perplexed me. He would smile warmly at me one moment, and in the next, he would become distant and detached.

The most painful part was when he instructed that I should join the slaves in their daily duties. It felt like a cruel, undeserved punishment, as if he were trying to erase any trace of the past we had shared. The humiliation was unbearable, and every step I took towards the slave quarters was laden with the weight of rejection.

As I approached the area where the slaves were diligently toiling away, I felt a lump form in my throat. These were the same people I had once overseen, now looking at me with pity and sympathy. I knew they couldn't understand what had transpired between Liam and me, but their empathetic glances only intensified the pain in my chest.

One of the older maids, a woman named Eliza, approached me caut