PRESENT
Something wakes me, the sound of the door closing. I sit up and something falls from my shoulders. My blanket. It’s back.
I stretch out my hand and find a tray. The last four had been left inside the door. Does this mean that my punishment is finally over? My spirits lift. I wish I hadn’t been asleep when the tray was brought. I’ve missed my captor, missed his presence.
Maybe it’s because my punishment appears to be over, and I no longer need to obsess about lack of food or human contact, my mind keeps returning to the past. So far, I’ve managed to bury the absolute horror of the few days before Ned and I were kidnapped somewhere deep inside me, terrified that if I gave in to it, grief would make me lose my mind. But now their faces—Justine, Lina, Hunter—loom in the darkness. Please, not now. Don’t let me break now.
I do everything I can to block them out. I pace the room, counting furiously in an attempt to focus my mind on something other than those memories. When that doesn’t work, I lie under my blanket, my eyes shut tight, my fingers in my ears, not wanting to see, not wanting to hear. But nothing works, and sobs rack my body. Aware of Ned being able to hear me, I jam my hand into my mouth so that no sound escapes.
By the time my captor brings my evening tray, despair and loneliness have morphed into a burning resentment.
“Do you even see me?” I spit. “I mean, do you see me—Amelie? Or do you see some poor stupid girl, some poor, stupid, collateral-damage girl? Because that’s not who I am. And I want you to know that. And now that I’ve told you, you can leave. Go back to your worthless life working for violent men who seek to extort money by imprisoning women. I hope you feel good about yourself.”
He has already moved away, and I can’t bear that my words have left him unmoved. Groping for the tray, I pick it up, knocking everything off it, and aim blindly for his departing back. I hear a thud, then a grunt.
“Got you!” I yell.
The door slams shut, and I burst into fresh tears.