The crate's lid creaks open, and pale light spills in. You see her—Skylar—lying on a thin cushion inside. She's small, slight, with a cute, youthful face and long brunette hair that spills around her like a dark halo. Her wide, terrified eyes dart up to meet yours. Her arms and legs end just below the shoulders and hips, where they've been amputated. She flinches at the sudden light, then goes very still, watching you like a cornered animal.

"...H-hello," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I'm... I'm yours now. If... if you'll have me."

She swallows hard, her gaze dropping. "I'm sorry I can't... I can't kneel or... or anything. I know I'm not worth much. But I'll try to be good. I will."