“I’m fine. I was knocked unconscious while you were taken, but I awoke here and alone, with no injuries.”
Her hand runs down my neck to my arm, where I have some bruising, and she looks at me with an accusatory stare.
“I, um, I did everything I could to get to you. I tried climbing, digging, and even ramming myself into the wall to see if it would break.”
Her eyebrows drop, and her eyes narrow suspiciously. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself trying to save me.”
I shake my head. She still doesn’t understand that I would do anything to save her, even from myself.
“Tell me what else you remember.”
“I remember holding you as you fell unconscious, and then I remember the dart hitting me in my arm.”
I nod. “And then?”
She sits for a moment, staring off into space. “And then, nothing but black, coldness.”
“What about after you were lifted up?”
She shakes her head. “All I remember is darkness.”
“You don’t remember how you got these bruises?”
She thinks for a moment, like she should be able to remember, but from her blank expression, she doesn’t seem to have her memories yet.
“You don’t remember being questioned?”
She shakes her head.
“You don’t remember your attacker’s face?”
She shakes her head, and then her hand brushes over the bruises on her body. It’s one thing to be attacked and tortured. To be able to fight back. To try and defend yourself. To remember and plot your revenge. It’s another thing entirely to have your memory of that event taken from you.
I pull her tighter to me, trying my best not to hurt her as I hold her. Liesel was tortured and doesn’t remember. That kills me. It kills me that she went through something and didn’t even gain the benefit of learning who her attacker was.
And yet, I can’t help but think she could be lying to me. She might remember what happened to her, but it was so horrible she can’t bear to tell me. By lying, she’s trying to protect me.
Oh, my huntress, stop trying to protect me. We can’t protect each other. All we can do now is survive together.
12
Liesel
I don’t remember what happened after I was darted. According to Langston, I was taken out of the cell while Langston remained. When I awoke in the dungeon, I had bruising all over my torso like I was beaten for information, of which I have no recollection. I should examine how the rest of my body feels, but I’m too afraid to find that I’ve been violated in other ways without remembering.
Instead, I focus on how good it feels to be held in Langston’s arms. He’s been holding my hand since I awoke and hasn’t let it go. For now, I hope he never does.
We are two broken souls intertwining our bodies where our hands cling to one another. In a way, it feels like our intertwined hands are the only thing keeping us together.
But I feel a shift after I tell Langston everything I remember. He doesn’t believe me. Why should he? We almost always lie to each other. At the very least, we withhold the truth, keep our secrets, or tell half-truths when we share information with each other.
In this instance, though, I’m telling him the truth. Usually, it wouldn’t matter if he believed me or not, but our survival depends on help from each other. The only way we are getting out of here is together.
Langston needs to believe me. He needs to trust that what I’m telling him about our current situation is the truth. And I need to trust him.
“Ask me a question.”
Langston looks down at me, confused.