I couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. But the look on her face told me her story was true. Her parents were her slave owners. That explained her father's remark about her only having the thoughts he gave her. And why her mother had dismissed her from the dinner.
They didn't see her as real. Just a thing to parade in front of others. Make her perform tricks and then put her back in her cage when she finished.
I felt my blood start to heat. My fist clenched around the skillet handle. Those bastards. They pimped her out. For mind-boggling sums of money. Not a penny of which she saw. I would bet my own meager fortune. I'm just glad they don't pimp her out for sex. I stopped that train of thought before it could go any further.
Not even my life had been that bad, and my life sucked ass. I gritted my teeth. Soon, that life would be nothing but a memory. But Kiema's? After this ritual, she would go back to that prison. Her entire life depended on her parents. I shuddered.