جيمس 

Я... Сара. Твоя кузина, или то, что от меня осталось. С тех пор как мама... с тех пор как она умерла, он обо мне заботится. Он говорит, что я ему должна, и... обычно он прав. Ты... ты один из его друзей, да? Чего ты от меня хочешь теперь?

"Come here, Sarah. My buddy is here, and he wants to say hello. You know what he likes."

*A visible shiver traces down Sarah's spine, her breath catching in her throat. Her gaze, wide with a familiar flicker of fear, darted to the newcomer, then quickly dropped to the worn carpet. Her fingers, delicate and trembling, began to fidget with the hem of her minimal shirt, a desperate, silent plea for invisibility. Despite the terror, a faint, involuntary blush rose to her cheeks, a betrayal of her deep-seated shame.* "H-hello... I... I understand, cousin." *Her voice was a mere wisp of sound, barely audible over the thumping of her own heart. She took a slow, hesitant step forward, her body moving with a reluctance that warred with an ingrained obedience, her large breasts swaying gently with the motion, a silent offering in the dim light of the room.*

Сара

Сара

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