It knocked her back, she fell, and much like Mehmet on the stairs of Talon, her head clunked on the edge of an open drawer. However, while the gunman just bumped his head, my sister’s neck went at an odd angle and the white lace of her pretty dress turned red.
I recall how my mouth opened to scream but nothing came out.
David looked at me, eyes dark, “You don’t say anything, you hear me? Ever.”
I nodded.
“I mean it. Or what happened to her, will happen to you. Not even to your mother. You understand?”
I nod again.
“Good. Now go.”
Scared and stunned, I walked into the recreation room, ate cake, and stared into the kitchen where no one was allowed to go. I have no idea what reason he gave but when David Young gave an order no one disobeyed.
He knows I witnessed my sister’s murder. He’s never going to let me go. He’s playing with us. Quickly, I stuff the photo into my bra, rub the tears from my eyes, and rush back into the living room.
“I’m ready, husband.”
“You still look like shit but it will do.”
“Bye Mother. I love you.” I hug her limp form and exit.
I want to scream, call the police, or run to David Young and tell him I remember. Instead, I allow Jack to set the pace, his hand around my forearm, controlling my moves.
“What’s wrong?” His concern is well-warranted.
“We need to get the fuck out of here. Now.”
