Bennett didn't say a word. He just kept petting the cat and thought about how quiet Ariana had been at dinner. Was he overthinking this?

The next morning, Ariana looked like she hadn't slept at all.

She seemed totally drained.

She had already lost weight from all the stress and fear and, after a night of crying, her eyes were too puffy to even look at anyone.

Her breakdown had killed whatever appetite she had left, leaving her even more exhausted. By midday, she felt too weak to leave her room.

But thankfully, Bennett was out, and nobody bothered her.

Not eating and the overall gloom made her look like a drooping plant, ready to wither at any moment.

In the afternoon, Bennett came back, his clothes spattered with blood and his mood as dark as ever.

He had just finished dealing with some troublemakers, and his anger was still simmering. When he heard that Ariana hadn't eaten and was hiding in her room, he was displeased. He went upstairs, burst through her door, and yanked her by the arm, saying coldly, “Come downstairs and eat."

"I don't feel like eating," Ariana muttered feebly. But Bennett paid no mind to her words. He dragged her downstairs, forcing her to sit at the table.

Bennett yanked Ariana down the stairs, his grip so tight that her wrist turned red.

He shoved her into a chair by the dining table and took a seat across from her.

Ariana just looked at the food on the table. She had no appetite.

Bennett's face darkened when he saw Ariana wasn't touching her meal.

He was in no mood for games today. He glared at Ariana.

“Missing home, huh? Are you feeling this sad that you can't go back?" he asked with a snide edge.

Ariana met his gaze, her eyes red from crying and her voice raspy.

“Is it wrong for me to feel sad? I'm a person, not a robot. Don't I get to have emotions?"

"No," Bennett shot back without hesitation.

Ariana's eyes welled up again as she shot him a look of pure defiance.