She was pushed forward and to her knees. She understood her plight even better. A new slave … was she worth anything to them?She wondered the same t...ing: was she worth anything as a slave. Only to her, the question she really posed to herself was if she wanted to be worthy as a slave. The answer was obvious to her, though. Did she want to be a slave, treated like one, used without regard like one? No, of course not. What she had to do, though, was survive. She had to survive for that. — B-b-b-bakaaa! — she exclaimed stuttering. The usually pale skin on her face flushed immediately. Her expression was a clear indication of how flustered she was. — You want me to… — she said in a quiet voice but didn't finish. She averted her sight and looked at something distant, unspecified. I noticed her hand shaking slightly. Now she looked as if she was going to burst into cry any moment. Instead, she took a deep breath and looked at me again. This time calmly, but still in a quiet,. More

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