Secrets (6)

Harriet...my baby, are you okay?" Constance called out apprehensively.

Earlier, the guards had just unceremoniously dumped her back inside the cell after her week of solitary confinement.

Harriet lay crumpled on the ground, unmoving.

"Honey...talk to me, please," Constance pleaded, her heart breaking at the sight before her.

In just one week isolated away, Harriet had deteriorated drastically.

She had lost a alarming amount of weight, her skin taking on a ghostly pallor.

But it was the dead, hopeless look in her eyes that tore at Constance's soul.

When she reached out a trembling hand to touch her daughter, to reassure herself that she was really there, Harriet violently slapped it away. "Don't touch me!" she hissed, venom lacing her words.

Constance recoiled, cradling her hand in shock. "I'm sorry...I was just so worried about you," she apologized meekly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down her hollow cheeks.