Chapter three
Sweat clung to my skin as I bolted upright, the horrible nightmares still vivid in my mind. Blood-so much blood. It was everywhere. On me, on the walls, on the floor. Dead bodies surrounded me, their lifeless faces etched into my memory.
I could still see the look of death in my parents' eyes. They had killed them in the most horrific ways, forcing me to watch. The screams, the agony-it all replayed in my head like a broken record. Lois wasn't there when it happened. He had been somewhere else, spared from witnessing the horror.
But the thought that he might now be imprisoned like me brought a sharp ache to my chest. It would be better if he were dead than living this ever ending nightmare.
The nightmares were constant, each one worse than the last. After a while, I stopped sleeping much at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blood-always blood. It clung to my body, my hands, dripping from my fingertips. It was everywhere, suffocating me.
The fear of it consumed me, growing stronger with each passing night.
The door creaked open, and a small figure emerged into the room. Skinny and so tiny, my first thought was that they had thrown a child in here with me after they'd been kidnapped.after all that's how me and Alissa got here .
The gruff man closed the door without sparing me a glance with a heavy thud, and silence fell. Hours passed before I finally worked up the courage to speak. I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle her.
"My name is Lilly," I said softly. "What's your name?"
"Savanna," she replied in a hoarse voice, as though she'd been screaming for hours.
"Savanna," I repeated gently, "how old are you, darling?"
She hesitated, lifting her eyes to meet mine for the first time. They were sunken, hollow, and unnatural, her gaze holding a weight far too heavy for her small frame.
"I'm fifteen " she whispered.
"I'm eighteen," I said, my voice quiet as the words filled the space between us.
Silence lingered again, but it wasn't as thick this time. I let it sit for a moment before speaking.
"Are you okay, Savanna? Did they hurt you?"
She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her oversized shirt. "Not… not yet," she murmured. "But… I don't know what they want."
I leaned closer, careful not to scare her. "Do you know where you are?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. One minute I was walking home, and the next… they grabbed me."
Her voice cracked, and I could see the tears pooling in her eyes. I grabbed Savanna's hands it trembled in mine, and I gave it a reassuring squeeze. At least, I meant it to feel reassuring. Her eyes flicked to mine, wide and uncertain, like a rabbit cornered by a predator.
"It's okay," I said softly. "We'll figure this out together."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded faintly, but the tension in her small frame didn't ease.
I let the silence settle again, waiting. Letting her get comfortable. Letting her guard drop.
"So, Savanna," I said finally, my tone light and conversational. "Where were you walking home from? School? A friend's house?"
She glanced at me, hesitant. "School," she said quietly.
"School," I echoed, leaning back against the wall. "Must be nice, being able to go to school. I didn't have much of a chance for that where I grew up."
Her brow furrowed slightly, and I caught the flicker of curiosity in her sunken eyes. Good. Curiosity was better than fear.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice still wary but softer now.
I smiled faintly, looking down at my lap. "Let's just say my childhood wasn't exactly normal. I spent more time learning how to survive than learning math or history."
She stared at me, and I could feel her trying to piece me together, trying to decide if I was friend or foe. I gave her a little more to work with.
"You remind me of someone," I said, my voice almost wistful. "A girl I knew was close to your age a little bit older . Skinny like you. Scared like you."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened to her?"
I hesitated, letting the pause stretch just enough to make her wonder. Then I shrugged. "I helped her. Got her out of a bad situation. She didn't trust me at first, either."
She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching in her lap. "Why are you here?" she asked suddenly, the question sharp and direct.
I met her gaze, my smile fading. "Same reason as you, I guess. Someone decided I didn't belong anywhere else."
Her breathing quickened, and I could see her trying to process my words. I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice.
"Listen, Savanna," I said, my tone serious now. "If we're going to get out of here, we have to trust each other. You understand?"
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. But there was still doubt in her eyes.
Good, I thought to myself. Doubt meant she was paying attention. Doubt meant she'd keep listening.
"Good," I said aloud, my voice softening again. "Now, why don't you tell me everything you remember about how you got here? Every little detail could help."
She opened her mouth to speak, but I could see the way her fingers gripped her knees, the way her shoulders curled inward. She was scared—but she was also trying to decide whether I was really on her side.
And that was exactly where I needed her to be. If I wanted us to get out of her live the both of us she needed her to trust me .
I lied about helping that girl , but I needed to ease her fear. If telling a lie would comfort her and make her feel better, then so be it. Sometimes, you have to say what someone needs to hear, even if it isn't the truth.
Looking at her, so small and fragile, I could see the weight of her terror pressing down on her. She didn't need to know that I was just as scared, just as lost. She needed someone who seemed strong, someone who had been through this before.
If my words gave her a sliver of hope, even a false one, wasn't that better than letting her sink further into despair? I couldn't change where we were or what had happened, but I could try to give her something to hold onto.
"You're going to be okay, Savanna," I said, my voice steady and sure. "I'll make sure of it."
This time, I wouldn't let her share Alissa's fate. I didn't have power—I knew that—but I had a plan. Whether it would work or blow up in my face, I couldn't say. All I could do was wait and see how things turn out .
She looked at me with those sunken, frightened eyes, searching for a reason to believe me. I could see hope.
I didn't like hope. Hope had always been a cruel trick, leading to disappointment over and over again. It was the thing that whispered promises it couldn't keep, leaving me to pick up the pieces when everything fell apart. But still, it gave me a reason to keep going—a fragile thread to cling to when the darkness felt too heavy.
So, once again, foolishly, I decided to believe. Maybe—just maybe—this time would be different. Better. Even as doubt lingered in the back of my mind, I clung to that small, desperate spark. Because without it, what else was there?