If you don’t do this, I’ll kill your son as you watch.
For so long, I had blocked these memories out of my head, but I can see them now. As if they’d happened yesterday. I can’t un-see them. I can’t shake them.
I was overcome with wanting to help her. Her shoulders were shaking and she was helpless, and I was the only one who could.
So I’d rushed out and tried.
And she’d died.
Trying to help her had killed her.
I won’t make that same mistake again.
I watch Zuzu on the monitor. She’s still now. She probably cried herself to sleep.
I can’t fight them, or she’ll die.
I can’t risk it.
I open another box.
I push the plunger down, and the heroin disappears into my vein. My consciousness goes with it.
This is for the best.
26
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mila
I’ve been in this bedroom for eight days. I have bled a little, off an on, but I try to keep my anxiety at a minimum, and I try to lay still in bed.
The only thing I can see is Pax on the monitor, but at least he’s untied now. That’s something. And he’s alive.
That’s everything.
He sits on the floor now, staring at the wall, and then abruptly, he climbs up and does push-ups. I lose track of how many. He moves fast, like a machine. I don’t know why he’s so frenzied and focused.
The doorbell rings. I can hear it vaguely from through the house. It rang once the other day, too. I have no idea who it was since I can’t see from this room. All I have here is a view of the gardens and the pool. Once, I thought it was charming and quiet. Today, it secludes and isolates me.
I did finally eat. I had to for the baby. I drank my water and ate my toast, and I cup my belly protectively now. While my baby is here, inside of my body, they can’t take it like they took Zuzu.
Children make you vulnerable. That is certainly true. They ripped my heart out when they took her.
I can’t think of her right now. Because if I do, I’ll lose my mind.
I put my h
and on Pax’s on the television screen. He’s still now, quiet. Sweat beads on his brow.
Anyone on the outside looking in would think that we have the world on a string, but here we are… separated by a thousand miles and two locks rooms….against our will.
He’s there.
I’m here.
I take a breath, and steel myself.