The piercing pain buckled my leg. I staggered, and my other foot, stripped of its skin, slammed down flat against the scorching iron floor.
The agony that shot up through my skull ripped a shrill wail from my throat.
Bernard clearly heard me. His brow creased. He shot a warning glance at Irvin Winfield, then stood and walked to the small window.
He saw it on the iron floor: a complete layer of sole-skin, and the bright red smear of blood beside it. Something stabbed through his chest.
He was about to speak when Ivy appeared at his side, biting her lip, looking frail.
"Sharon, just apologize to Bernard. Even if you don't mean it, it's fine. You know his temper. If you don't apologize, he'll never let you out..."
Every organ inside me was churning. The heat was cooking me alive. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
Watching me struggle, Ivy's lips curled. Then she raised her hand and slapped herself twice across the face, crying and clawing at the door, begging to be let in to share my punishment.
"Bernard, if she won't apologize, then let me go in there with her! I can't stand watching her suffer like this. Just say it's all my fault. It's my fault for getting heatstroke. My fault for ending up in the ICU!"
Seeing Ivy act so selflessly, whatever softness had flickered in Bernard's chest vanished like smoke.
He glared at me with pure venom, his voice thick with disgust.
"Sharon Fox, you are a complete disappointment. You used to have at least a shred of shame. Now you're utterly shameless. You hurt Ivy and you don't feel an ounce of remorse. She's kind enough to want to suffer alongside you, and you don't deserve it."
"Fine. Since that's how you want it, I'll discipline you on behalf of your dead father today!"
He waved his hand and gave the order. "Go. Raise the temperature another nine degrees. A hundred and fifty-eight. I don't care how stubborn you think you are. You don't apologize, you don't come out."
The moment the words left his mouth, the other maids in the house came running over, begging on my behalf.
"Sir, please spare her this once. She's eight months pregnant. The temperature in there is already so high, it could be fatal for the baby."
Bernard's brow furrowed. He glanced at me through the small window.
A few seconds of silence. He was about to nod when Ivy let out a sharp cry and collapsed to the floor.