While Conrey tended to her precious kitten, Yasmine had found the master bedroom in his wing and had curled up in the middle of it, uncaring of the clouds of dust that had shot up the moment she had flopped on it as she wallowed in her guilt and self-pity. Tears threaten to slide down her face but she stubbornly continued to fight them, not daring to given for fear she would never stop. Nothing was working right for her in her opinion. She had been made into a monster, forced out of her home, torn away from her former life, made to live in a filthy, rat-infested pit, and now could not even seek the comfort of her only distraction life as it was injured and her own affliction meant she was now a danger to Duchess.
"Could it get any worse?" she groaned into her hands moments before the mattress sank through the rotted bed frame and she was pinned in the center.