Callie
All I could do was stare at my mother’s face in the photograph. She looked so familiar yet so different. She was trying to smile as she looked down at me, but something almost akin to sadness was in her expression. I held the photo up. I couldn’t take my eyes away from it. I turned it around to see if anything was written on the back, but there was nothing, just the name of the printer and the date.
I was about to turn the photo back to the front when, suddenly, I stopped. I looked at the date again. “This doesn’t make sense,” I mumbled under my breath. “What?” The date was wrong. The date was from five years after I was born. How could there have been a photograph of me as a baby taken five years after my year of birth? In fact, my mother wasn’t even alive when the photo was taken.
What sort of sick joke was Antonio playing? I looked around the room again. I needed to get out of here. “Please, Antonio. If you can hear me, please let me out. I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say. You want me to tell you that I liked you, that I thought I was falling in love with you? Do you want me to tell you that my heart is breaking right now? Do you want me to tell you that I feel like a fool for trusting you again, even though I didn’t really trust you? Do you hear me? I didn’t believe you, Antonio. I knew you set it up. I’m not an idiot. Do you think I would’ve believed that you were kidnapped as well and you’re just going to get in the back of a van with me and kiss me and hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay without trying to break down the doors for all it was worth? I know you, Antonio. You would’ve broken your arms and your legs trying to get out of that van if it was real. I know you weren’t really kidnapped. I know you were trying to set me up. Now let me out.”
I started screaming louder and louder and louder, but nothing happened. I threw the photo onto the bed. I jumped up quickly and made my way over to the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and peed. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t know what to do. I wondered if Imogen and Gia were trying to help me. Imogen would have no clue, but Gia, she would know. She could do something, but then suddenly, it occurred to me that I didn’t know what Gia would do. I didn’t know how high up her family was in the Mafia. I didn’t even know if they were good guys or bad guys. I didn’t know anything personal about her except that she was a nice woman, but she was young like me. She was a student, and she wasn’t a Valentina sort of student. She was for real. She was smart and beautiful, and I prayed that she’d be able to figure out a way to help get me out of here.
I stood up slowly, pulled up my pants, and then flushed the toilet. I walked over to the little closet again and pressed my ear against the wall to see if I could hear anything. There was humming coming from the other side. It made me shiver. I wasn’t sure if someone was actually in there or if a record was playing. Maybe Antonio was trying to freak me out by playing music in the other room as well.
I started banging on the walls. “Antonio. Antonio.”
The humming seemed to come closer. I could feel my heart racing. I was starting to feel cold. The humming came closer still. “Antonio?”
“There’s a bird in the sky,” she said. A female voice started singing. It was soft and melodic and beautiful.
“Who’s there?” I asked. “Can you hear me?”
“There’s a bird in the sky, the blue sky,” the voice sang. It was definitely a woman, and I didn’t think it was a speaker. How could a speaker get louder and closer to the wall?
“Can you hear me? Please, if you can hear me, bang on the wall.” I heard a thud against the wall, and I shrieked. “Oh my God. There’s someone there. There’s someone there.” I banged on the wall, “Hello? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you,” the female voice said. “There’s no need to shout. I’m here.”
“Oh my God. You’re real. You’re real,” I said, unable to find my words.
“I think so,” she said. “Sometimes, I wonder the same thing.” There was something very distinct and familiar about her voice.
“Luisa? Is that you?” I asked, confusion flooding my brain.
“No,” she said, “I don’t think so.”
“Elisabetta?” It didn’t sound like Elisabetta. It didn’t sound like someone young, but…
“No, not Elisabetta. That’s not my name. I like to sing,” she continued.
“I like to sing, too,” I said. I was starting to feel creeped out, almost like I was in a horror movie. I blinked a couple of times and tried to pinch myself. I was scared I was going to die from fright.
And then she started singing again. “Hush little baby. Don’t say a word. Mama’s going to buy you a mockingbird.” The voice was so familiar.
I closed my eyes. “Can you say that again?” I said softly. There was silence. I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me. “Can you say that again, that song you just sung?” I spoke louder this time.
“Sure,” she said. “Hush little baby. Don’t say a word. Mama’s going to buy you a mockingbird,” she sang, and my eyes flew open.
“Mama?” I cried out, pressing my hands against the wall. “Mama, is that you?”
“My name’s Phillipa, dear. What’s yours?” And then the earth seemed to swallow me up. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was this a trick or some cruel act of fate? If it was, Antonio had won. He’d officially broken me. I’d gone crazy. He’d twisted my mind into thinking and believing I was hearing things I wasn’t. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, and it hadn’t even taken much.
“Are you there,” she said, “whoever you are?”
“I’m here. It’s me, Mama,” I said. “Your daughter. It’s Callie. Callie Rowney.”