Freeuse Freya Parker [verified] -

She bent. The wood was warm from the sun, the grain rough against her palms. She watched a mallard dive and surface, shake water from its emerald head. Behind her, the man unzipped his trousers. She counted the seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. Forty-five. A grunt. A rustle of fabric.

She nodded.

That evening, she locked the bathroom door—the only lock in the house she was permitted to use, and only for fifteen minutes at a time. She ran a bath so hot it turned her skin pink. She submerged herself up to the chin and stared at the ceiling. freeuse freya parker

“Thank you,” her mother said, already returning to her tablet. “You can finish your breakfast.” She bent

Freya sat back down. She underlined the sentence again. Then she packed her bag and left. Behind her, the man unzipped his trousers

A hand landed on her shoulder. Professor Lyle, her thesis advisor. He smelled of stale coffee and pencil shavings.

Because that was the rule. And Freya Parker had never broken a rule in her life.