**Chapter 7: The Darkness Closes In**

Sophie's eyes locked onto Mr. Jenkins', a silent challenge flashing between them. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, like a physical presence that pressed against her skin. Mr. Jenkins seemed to savor the moment, his gaze roaming over her face before finally dropping to her lap. As he looked away, Sophie let out a slow, quiet breath. She felt a sense of temporary reprieve, but she knew it wouldn't last. Mr. Jenkins' hands had left her skin feeling bruised and violated, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was living in a constant state of vulnerability. The room seemed to grow darker, the shadows cast by the flickering candles twisting and writhing like living things. Sophie's mind began to wander, her thoughts drifting back to the wound on her leg. It throbbed with a dull, aching pain, a constant reminder of her weakness. Mr. Jenkins' voice broke into her thoughts, his words dripping with condescension. "I'm glad we understand each other, Sophie. I think you'll find that it's... mutually beneficial for us to work together." Sophie's gaze snapped back to his face, her eyes narrowing. She didn't like the sound of this, didn't like the way he seemed to be maneuvering her into a corner. But she kept her expression neutral, careful not to reveal too much. As they sat there, the silence between them grew thicker, more oppressive. Sophie could feel Mr. Jenkins' eyes on her, boring into her skin like a physical presence. She shifted uncomfortably, her leg aching in response to the pressure. The air seemed to vibrate with tension, and Sophie felt like she was waiting for something to happen. She didn't know what, but she knew it couldn't be good. Mr. Jenkins seemed to be enjoying the silence, his eyes glinting with a malevolent light. And then, without warning, he reached out and placed a hand on her thigh. Sophie's eyes widened in shock as he slid his hand higher, his touch sending a wave of revulsion through her. His fingers brushed against her, a clumsy, vulgar touch that made her skin crawl. Sophie tried to move away, but Mr. Jenkins' grip was like a vice. He held her in place, his hand moving in a slow, suggestive circle. Sophie felt a wave of panic wash over her, her breath catching in her throat. "Don't play coy, Sophie," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "I know you want this. You need this." Sophie's eyes flashed with anger, but she kept her mouth shut. She knew that she had to keep him talking, to keep him distracted. She couldn't let him see her fear, her weakness. But as his hand moved again, Sophie felt her body begin to shut down. She was trapped, and she knew it. Mr. Jenkins had her right where he wanted her, and she didn't know how to escape. The darkness seemed to close in around her, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume her whole.