Rose Hill, 1778

When Quinn came out of the bathroom, she could hear mumbling from outside her bedroom door. She still wasn't comfortable with Rachel's constant presence by her side, and had commanded the slave to wait on the hall as she completed her night rituals in the bathroom. She couldn't imagine who the girl would be talking to. Everyone was already asleep, as far as she knew.

Quinn peered her head outside, making sure to make no noise. But there was no one else on the halls. Instead, she found Rachel leaning against the wall with her eyes shut tight, head bowed and hands clasped in front of her heart. She was praying, and for a second Quinn wondered if it would be sinful to interrupt it. Curiosity took over, and she kept herself quiet to find out what she was praying for. But when she heard Rachel mumbling mother, she couldn't help a huff.

Rachel lifted her head and opened her eyes, rolling them when she found Quinn's wry smile by her side. The subtle action hit Quinn, who crossed her arms around her chest and stomped her feet with another huff. Her smile had become an annoyed frown, much like a little spoiled child. Rachel took a deep breath.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss Quinn?" Rachel asked, gathering all her strength to be polite like she had been taught instead of just slapping the frown out of her owner's face.

"Yes, there is." Quinn nodded. But what was it? She couldn't define. Something about the girl just… unnerved her. She blurted out the first thing that came into her mind. "How dare you pray for your mother?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Rachel asked, genuinely confused. Both of them noticed the absence of miss in that phrase. Rachel did it on purpose. Quinn didn't know how to apprehend her for it.

"If anything, you should pray for my sweet grandmother who for many years gave you food and shelter," said Quinn, with arrogance slipping from the corners of her mouth without her even realizing. "Your mother, on the other hand, did nothing but make you a slave."

"Do not open your mouth to talk about my mother, miss." Rachel defied, taking one step closer to Quinn. Quinn took one back by instinct, and regretted it immediately. This was not how one ascertained dominance. This was not what she had been taught. The sarcastic overtone in Rachel's voice made Quinn boil inside, and before she could think, her flat hand flew across Rachel's face.

Rachel's hand reached her own face where the skin burned from the slap. She had never been slapped in the face before. Madam Margaret had never been the kindest, but she acknowledged Rachel's good work and her few mistakes were punished by the overseer, not by the Madam herself. It took all of Rachel's self-control to not jump on top of the frail blonde girl and rip her jugular apart with her teeth. She could be so easily killed, if Rachel wanted.

Quinn spun around in her heels and entered her room, leaving Rachel still stunned on the hallway. At least no one had heard the commotion. Quinn wouldn't want to wake up her whole family just because she got unlucky to have an insolent slave in her hands.

"What are you waiting for?" Quinn shouted from inside the room and Rachel followed her. Quinn couldn't stand how the girl's chin was always up. "Do your job."

But Rachel stood still. She didn't know what Quinn meant. She didn't know what Quinn wanted. She bit her lip, fearing she would be punished again. And then she bit it harder, with anger, when she realized she was fearing someone like Quinn.

"What do you want me to do, miss?" She asked, briefly closing her eyes. She hated to admit defeat.

"You can't be serious." Quinn snickered. "What do you think you are here for? What did you do at my grandmother's house?"

"I worked on the kitchen, miss. I cooked, served her meals, went to the market for food, washed the di-" Rachel listed, but Quinn cut her short. She was sleepy, and not in the mood to hear the girl rambling.

"Alright, quit talking. I can't stand your voice." Quinn shook her head, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Close the curtains. Pour a glass of water for my nightstand. Prepare my bed. Light up the fireplace. And then leave."

Rachel really didn't know what was expected of her, but once Quinn gave the orders she promptly began to follow them. She not only did what she was demanded, but did so with perfection. She was a fast learner, and she wanted to get that sly smile out of Quinn's face. Quinn wouldn't be able to complain about anything she did. She wouldn't give her that pleasure.

That was until she walked over to the fireplace. She had never set up one. Madam Margaret had always complained about the heat in their city - even on brisk nights. She kneeled by the fireplace and took a deep breath. She would have to figure it out on her own. She had seen other servants doing so, but never paid attention enough to know what to do. She hadn't even lit up the fire in the kitchen - there was always someone to do so for her. And in that moment, she couldn't regret it more.

"What's taking you so long?" Quinn asked, walking to Rachel's side and propping her weight in the fireplace poker.

"I'm sorry miss, I'm doing what I can." Rachel admitted in a growl feeling a tug in her stomach. She didn't know for how long she could keep her hate inside.

"Well, it's not enough. I want to sleep. Get this done with!" Quinn kicked a log that stuck out of the fireplace. The girl couldn't even set the log straight in the holder.

"It will have to be enough, miss." Rachel murmured in her breath with annoyance. Quinn's harassment wouldn't make her back down.

"Oh, you're so defiant. I don't know who you think you are bu-" Quinn snapped out. Rachel watched her face becoming bright red, and chuckled. It was so easy to drive Quinn to the edge.

"I'm not defying anyone, miss." She said nonchalantly, but her smile said it all. Quinn exploded.

"Enough!" She yelled, grabbing the fireplace poker and hitting with it against Rachel's head. Rachel immediately backed down, covering her head with her arms in fear of more strikes. If anything, she was lucky Quinn didn't have really strong arms - but they were strong enough to make Rachel's eyes black out for a second and her head spin. If she was stronger, Rachel could have been dead by then. "You're my slave and you'll respect me whether you want or not!" Quinn flared, throwing the poker on the ground and going to the door. "Dorea!" She shouted. "Dorea!"

"Yes, miss Quinn?" A black woman appeared immediately, wrapping her apron around her waist. One look at her face and Rachel knew Quinn had woken up the poor woman.

"Light up my fireplace." She ordered, pulling the covers from her bed. "And then take this insolent girl to the kitchen house. Find some place for her to sleep there." Quinn said, before turning to Rachel again. "I should make you sleep on the cold hard floor for your insolence. But I'm a kind miss. I hope you grow deserving of my kindness."

The slaves left and Quinn closed her eyes. She could hear her own heart beating, and it had never been so fast. She always lashed out on slaves, but never for so little. She had never felt so angry in her life. She had never felt her stomach upside down like it was then.

And she had definitely never dreamed about a slave before.

"Hey, Abbie!" Dorea called out from the door, knocking softly before coming in. "Brought you something!" She announced.

Abbie came out one of the rooms, unwrapping a kerchief from her head and running her fingertips through her scalp. Rachel watched as her dark curls fell to her shoulder and smiled. It reminded her of her mother.

"Who's that?" Abbie asked, hands on her waist and the most courteous smile on her face. Rachel smiled back, but lowered her head waiting to be introduced.

"Rachel is her name. She's miss Quinn new slave." Dorea explained, grabbing Rachel's hand and pulling her inside to sit on a chair. "They're having a hard time getting along so far."

"Oh, miss Quinn can be hard when she wants." Abbie bit her lip sympathetically. "What happened to her head?" She asked, noticing droplets of blood running down her forehead.

"She hit me with the fireplace poker when I couldn't set a fire," Rachel explained. Her cheeks blushed in shame - this wasn't the first impression she wanted to give. She wasn't incompetent.

Abbie wetted a piece of rag and handed it to Rachel, who murmured a thank you before wiping it against her head and crunching up her nose when she felt the swollen bump. It would hurt more once morning came.

"Look, don't be afraid, alright?" Abbie explained once Dorea left. Madam Judy didn't like being left alone and would soon notice her slave's absence. "The Fabrays are not bad people. They treat us well as long as we do as we're told. You just have to obey and you'll be fine." She grabbed Rachel's hand. It was the first time Rachel felt anything warm since she had arrived - besides the usual Caribbean heat.

But Rachel didn't want to obey. She didn't want to be there, and she didn't want to be fine with it. She wanted to come back to her city, where her father would be waiting for her. She wanted to find him and tell him to run away with her. Run away from that island. Run away from the terrible fate that fell upon her. The dark forrest called her out from the windows, and all she wanted to do was answer. But she didn't.

Rachel laid down on her new bed. The mattress was even thinner than her former one and stuffed with corn husks - but after the day she had, it felt like heaven to finally lay down. She wept quietly. In just one day, she had been more humiliated than her whole life. She was alone and desolate and holding back her tears all day hadn't helped. She fell asleep hoping she would find some peace in her dreams.

But instead, she found Quinn.

"My beautiful daughter!" Russell exclaimed, seeing Quinn by his office door. She usually didn't bother him while he worked, but she saw her mother there too and figured it would be good to have advice from both of them. "Come on in, dear!" He said, tapping his lap.

Quinn walked in smiling and bowing her head just slightly for her mother before sitting on her father's leg. Russell wrapped one arm around Quinn's waist. If it weren't for her father, Quinn would never had received any affection growing up. Her mother could be as cold as ice. Quinn didn't know what would be of her if she didn't have her father.

"Aren't you too old for that, Quinn?" Her mother asked with a small shake of her head.

"She'll always be little girl, Judy!" Russell replied, and Quinn lolled her tongue out for her mother.

"See Russell? That's what happens when you coddle her like that!" Judy whined with a huff. Quinn rolled her eyes, but her father poked her side making her giggle. In his arms, she really was still just a little girl.

"Dear, apologize to your mother, please." He said in the sweetest voice.

"I'm sorry, mother." Quinn said, still giggling with her father. She could watch her mother discontentment about their close relationship - but it was no one's fault but hers. She was the one who never tried to bond with Quinn.

"What did you come here for, Quinn?" Her mother asked, straight to the point as always.

"I need advice." Quinn said with a sigh, killing her last giggles.

"On what, exactly?" Her father asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I don't know how to deal with my slave. She's- She's… Defiant!" Quinn felt rage settling inside of her just from mentioning the girl. "I feel like she doesn't take me seriously because she's the same age as me. I need you to teach me how to deal with her." She finally asked, taking a deep breath to contain her nerves. Her mother raised a curious eyebrow, and answered her before her father could manage to open his mouth.

"Quinn, you know what you have to do to gain her respect. You've watched us enough to know how to do so. You're simply being a coward." Her mother said harshly. "I thought we had raised you better."

The disappoint in her voice didn't affect Quinn, but when she didn't hear her father disagreeing her heart stopped. She looked over to catch hesitant eyes - but if he had a different opinion, he didn't voice it. Quinn wasn't sure how, but she would gain Rachel's respect. She wouldn't disappoint her father.

"I use a different recipe for the crust, but I think yours turns out much better. It looks more buttery!" Rachel said, subtly licking her lips and handing a piece of batter for Abbie. "I think it would be perfect if you added a little bit of cinnamon!"

"Oh, so there she is!" Quinn sneered, coming into the kitchen house with her face flushed in anger. "What are you doing here? I've been calling you for hours." In fact, it had been just a little more than five minutes. Quinn was known for exaggerating, but Rachel didn't need to know.

"I'm sorry miss Quinn, I was talking with Abbie and didn't hear you calling." Rachel replied with a roll of eyes, wiping the flour of her hands on her apron.

"Abigail, would you make me an apple pie? I'm craving it, and I'm hungry because my servant is rather useless." Quinn couldn't let the opportunity for a snarky comment to slip.

"Yes, miss Quinn." Abbie nodded with a smile, already turning around to fetch the ingredients.

"See? She's prettier than you and knows how to hold her tongue." Quinn said with a small chuckle, nudging her head towards Abbie. Rachel gulped. Quinn grabbed a knife from the countertop and banged it against the wooden table. The knife stood straight up, and the whole table shook. "Next time I call you and you don't answer, I'll come get you by the ear. And then I'll cut it off."

Rachel shivered. It wasn't the first time she had heard a threaten like that, and she knew well how Fabrays were known for keeping promises. The forest outside screamed her name. She couldn't stay there long enough to see if Quinn was like grandmother or not.

"What is Dorea doing here?" Judy asked, peeking her head inside of Quinn's room. Quinn propped up her weight in her elbows and lifted her body from the bed, watching as the slave set the fireplace again.

"My slave is dumb and useless, mother. She doesn't know how to light up the fireplace." Quinn answered with a deep sigh of annoyance. Her mother gave one of her rare smiles, and leaned against the door frame.

"Dorea, teach her how to do so. You are suppose to stay in my room, not in here." Judy commanded and Dorea nodded, whispering a yes madam almost inaudible. "Is she any better?" Judy asked, regarding their afternoon conversation.

"Hardly. She's awful, mother, really." Quinn groaned, burying herself deeper in bed.

"She'll get the hang of this house eventually. Or we'll get her a little lesson." Judy replied, and Quinn nodded. "Where is she, by the way?"

"Probably in her bed already." Quinn shrugged. "I sent her off because I couldn't stand to look at her face any longer."

Judy chuckled and left. Quinn never waited for a goodnight. She knew better.

Rachel had only been there for one day, but she had always been observant. She had already realized the kitchen house had no security at all during the night. No one watched their sleep from outside. They were probably busy taking care of the quarters down the hill, or maybe they just trusted Abbie too much.

She had also spent a lot of time in the halls, since Quinn wouldn't want her inside the rooms with her. Lucky for her, most of the windows in the halls faced the backyard. With a higher view she could see perfectly how the forest that began right behind the house extended as far as her eyes could see.

Rachel knew it was dangerous. She knew what she could face if they found her. But there was no way she could put up with the life they wanted her to lead there. She was never happy as a slave, but only now she realized how much better she had it at Madam Margaret's house. Quinn was arrogant, insulting and downright mean.

Yet, she moved Rachel in a way she had never experienced. Her whole body shook from anger and her guts told her to run. The memories of Quinn in her childhood tore Rachel from the inside out, and still she dreamed about Quinn. And before she could get even deeper in trouble, she decided to end it all.

Abbie fell asleep.

And Rachel slipped out of the window.