Hannah was instructed to go home. After the war of emotion the first two tests had put her through, she wasn't sure she could face her family again. No amount of showering could remove the film of guilt and shame that clung to her like a second skin. There was nothing waiting for her there. No job. No schooling. Not even a pet. Why--how--could she go back?
The door had already closed. Hannah stood uncertainly in the driveway, clutching her bag, staring at the innocently adorned house. One part told her to run. The other urged her to stay. Were newly hired stars allowed to sleep on the premises? She doubted it. But the man said he'd make an exception; maybe he would make another one.
It was a risk she was willing to take.
As before, the door cracked open to reveal a suspicious set of gray eyes. They squinted upon seeing her, no doubt skeptical of her return after the Master had dismissed her so finally. Hannah gulped and found her voice.
"H-hi, again. I-I need to speak with the Master?"
She inwardly cringed at her cowardice, but Gray Eyes disappeared predictively. It was a longer wait this time. Hannah fidgeted with her rings. The door creaked and she looked up.
"Come in."
Gray Eyes opened it wider. His voice was leaden, scornful even, stare hard as flint. Hannah bit her lip. Hopefully the Master wasn't too vexed by her request.
The young man ushered her into the same waiting space, but this time the Master sat in one of the chairs. He leaned forward with hands clasped, staring at the pen on the coffee table, face pulled into a frown. When he looked up, his gaze was as fixed and stormy as a thundercloud.
Hannah gulped.
He didn't talk yet, seemingly wanting her to feel uncomfortable and doubtful of her decision. That was part of his power. When he parted his lips, the words were as flat as river rock.
"So."
She subconsciously dug the toe of her tights into the carpet.
"You came back."
Heat spread to her cheeks as she seriously reconsidered just that. It was too late to retreat. Time to face the consequence.
The man slowly stood. All six feet towered over her. His paunchy frame and wide-set shoulders made him even more intimidating and she quickly turned her eyes to the ground. For a moment he hovered, then rumbled,
"You disobeyed a direct order."
A whimper escaped Hannah's throat. He stepped closer, breath fanning the top of her head. His voice was low, steady, ominously soft. She felt herself begin to shake.