"Svetlana—"
I slam the door in his face.
My hands are shaking as I turn the lock. I press my back against the door and slide down to the floor, everything crashing in all at once now that I’m alone again.
Kazimirkidnapped me. He brought me here against my will, and he’s keeping me prisoner.
I press my hands against my face, trying to breathe, trying to think. I need to get out of here.
I push myself to my feet and look around the room. It’s nice enough. There’s a queen-sized bed that’s neatly made with neutral-colored bedding, a nightstand and dresser, a chair, and a desk. It doesn’t seem to be stocked with anything, as if no one really uses it. I don’t think he planned this, and I’m not sure if that’s a relief or not. This was an impulse… bringing me here.
I move to the window and look out. We're high up—at least ten floors, maybe more. Even if I could open the window, there's no fire escape from this room, no way down. I'm trapped.
The panic starts to build in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Trapped, again, like I was in that cell, in the compound, locked in rooms so many times I lost count. I can’t do this again, I can’t…
I need to do something about the baby. I can't have it. I can't bring a child into this mess, can't raise it alone with no money and no support and no?—
But what if it's Kazimir's?
What if it's not? What if it's one of theirs?
The questions spiral in my mind, each one worse than the last. I sink onto the bed, my hands pressed against my stomach. I don't know what to do.
I hear Kazimir moving around the apartment outside of my room. Eventually, as the day wears on and the afternoon starts to darken, I hear the front door open and click. I wait, but there’s no sound of him coming back in.
Did he really leave me here? Does he not think I’ll try to run as soon as I’m left alone?
I unlock the door and ease it open. The apartment seems to be empty. I move quietly, carefully, toward the front door. I’m reaching for the doorknob when I hear a voice that isn’t Kazimir’s.
"Going somewhere?"
I freeze, then turn slowly and see a man sitting in the armchair by the living room window. He's big and broad-shouldered, with a gun resting casually on his hip. I shriek, leaping backward, my back hitting the door.
"Mr. Orlov asked me to make sure you didn't leave," he says in accented English. "For your own safety, of course."
I swallow hard, then ease away from the door, my heart pounding.
"The bedroom is that way," the man says, gesturing. "I suggest you get some rest."
It’s clear I’m not leaving. I feel my stomach drop, but I don't argue. I just turn and walk back to the guest room, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. I could try to run, but I think he’d catch me. The thought of a strange man’s hands on me again is enough to keep me from trying.
I lock the door again and lean against it, my mind racing. There's a guard. He has someone watching me. I'm not just trapped—I'm a prisoner.
Again.
The panic is overwhelming now, making my chest tight and my vision blur.I can't stay here. I can't do this. I can't?—
I slide down to the floor and pull my knees to my chest, trying to breathe, trying to think. But I can’t think straight. I’m starting to shake, panicking, and I can feel tears slipping down my cheeks. I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I sit there for a long time until it’s dark outside. I hear the front door open and close, and I push myself to my feet, swallowing hard as I poise for… what? For Kazimir to come see me? He’s not going to hurt me—I know that—not physically at least. But thisishurting me, just in a different way.
I hear him speaking to the man in the living room, although I can’t quite make out what he’s saying. I hear the door open and close again, and then a few minutes later, a knock at my door.
"Svetlana." His voice is gentler now, careful. "I brought food."
I don't answer.
"I know you're awake. I can hear you breathing." He pauses. "You need to eat. For the baby."
