Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

He’s not looking at me. “I’ll be moving in.”
There’s an ache in the pit of my stomach that’s gnawing
on my nerves. I want to hate him and judge him and scream
forever but I’m failing because all I see is an 8-year-old boy
who doesn’t remember that he used to be the kindest
person I ever knew.
I don’t want to believe this is happening.
I close my eyes and curl my head into my knees.
“You have to get dressed,” he says after a moment.
I pop my head up. I blink at him like I can’t understand
what he’s saying. “I am dressed.”
He clears his throat again but tries to be quiet about it.
“There’s a bathroom through here.” He points. I see a door
connected to the room and I’m suddenly curious. I’ve heard
stories about people with bathrooms in their bedrooms. I
guess they’re not exactly in the bedroom, but they’re close
enough. I slip off the bed and follow his finger. As soon as I
open the door he resumes speaking. “You can shower and
change in here. The bathroom . . . it’s the only place there
are no cameras,” he adds, his voice trailing off.
There are cameras in my room.
Of course.
“You can find clothes in there.” He nods to the armoire. He
suddenly looks uncomfortable.
“And you can’t leave?” I ask.
He rubs his forehead and sits down on the bed. He sighs.
“You have to get ready. Warner will be expecting you for
dinner.”
“Dinner?” My eyes are the size of the moon.
Adam looks grim. “Yeah.”
“He’s not going to hurt me?” I’m ashamed at the relief in
my voice, at the unexpected tension I’ve released, at the
fear I didn’t know I was harboring. “He’s going to give me
dinner?” I’m starving my stomach is a tortured pit of