My paperclip! I can’t lose it, and I don’t trust Faruk not to take my old clothes. They should probably be burned anyway given how dirty they are. Tucking the paperclip into my bra, I tear into one of the granola bars and down another bottle of water just as the clock ticks over to nine.
My heart leaps into my throat at the heavy footsteps in the hall, and when the lock thunks open, I press myself against the bed. Zaman looms in the doorway. “Follow me,” he says, his dark eyes cold.
“Where are you taking me?”
Lunging forward, he grabs my arm in a vise grip, dragging me down the hall. “Where I say. If you make trouble, all of those nice things in your room will disappear very quickly.”
Nice things?
Panic steals my focus until we reach the stairs and he releases my arm. The muscle throbs, and I try to rub the ache away as I trail meekly behind him. Down another corridor, he turns to the left and enters a large, sunny room filled with half a dozen women, including Lisette.
The high windows and glimpse of clear, blue sky send longing flooding through my limbs. Besides the few minutes spent outside the van to pee, I haven’t seen the sun since we were taken.
Zaman points to a cushion positioned at the far corner of a large, rectangular tablecloth spread out on the floor. “Sit.”
His harsh voice leaves me little hope he’ll tolerate any questions without hurting me, so I press my lips together before I get myself in more trouble. Mirroring the other women’s positions, I sink down onto the thin pillow and cross my legs. A tiny slip of a girl dressed all in black scurries into the room and offers me a plate with several thin rounds of bread on it, then gestures to several bowls on the tablecloth filled with what looks like thick pudding.
“Dip,” she says quietly before rushing off.
“That is Asal,” Lisette says. “She cooks for us. Eat. He will come soon.”
The other women talk in hushed tones, sneaking glances at me, and I at them. Using one of the rounds of bread as a scoop, I try the pudding, which is vaguely lemony. Some sort of curd, perhaps.
What I see in the gazes all around me twists my stomach into a knot.
They’re broken. Afraid. One has a black eye, another’s cheek is swollen and purple in a mirror to my own. Dressed richly, most with jewels on their fingers and stacks of gold bangles on their wrists, they take small portions from a handful of different dishes. Eggs, rice, fruits… It’s surreal. We’re surrounded by luxury, but I think these women are just as trapped as I am.
I can only manage a few bites before I start to feel nauseous and push the plate away. What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Lisette tenses with a sharp intake of breath, my only warning before Zaman appears at my side and wraps his rough fingers around my arm. I yelp as he hauls me up, his tight grip bruising my already swollen flesh.
“Pay attention,” he grunts as he marches me out of the room, down another hallway, and through the lavish foyer to a set of ornate double doors. Releasing my arm, he throws the doors open and gestures for me to step outside.
Sun. A few moments in the open air. If Faruk weren’t waiting for me in the center of the courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back, I’d relish this. Instead, I’m rooted to the spot until Zaman shoves me forward.
“Josephine,” Faruk says, arching a brow, “I am not a man who likes to be kept waiting.”
I glare at him as I approach. “I told you last night, I can’t just manufacture a cure—”
He holds up his hand. “I am not an unreasonable man. I do, however, expect complete and immediate compliance with my orders. As you are new to my household, I will forgive this one infraction.”
“Infraction?”
The strike catches me by surprise, and I fall to my hands and knees, my cheek throbbing with each beat of my heart. “Only one. No more,” Faruk says sharply. “Now get up.”
My entire body aches from too little activity and too many blows, but I stagger upright and straighten my shoulders.
“Better.” With a sweep of his arm, he gestures to a stone wall more than twelve feet high with razor wire along the top. Four guard towers mark the corners, each with two men—AK-47s slung over their shoulders. “Before you begin treating my son, I wanted to show you some of your new home,” he says with a fake smile. “I protect what is mine. Nothing and no one comes in or out without my knowledge. That,” he points to a large metal door on a thick rolling track, “is the only exit.”
My heart thumps so hard in my chest I worry I’m going to pass out, but I force myself to take a few deep breaths. I’m outside. In the sun. And no one’s currently hurting me. But those small blessings don’t make up for what I’ve just learned. There’s no way I can escape.
“Walk with me, Josephine. There is something I would like to show you.” Faruk starts to stroll away, and Zaman arches a brow at me, as if asking, “Are you going to behave?”
“I’m sorry, Amir Faruk,” I say when I catch up to him. The soft slippers provide little protection against the rocky ground, and I wince as he spares me a brief glance. “I can’t cure your son. I wish I could—”
“Choose your next words carefully, woman.” We stop by a dark hole in the ground, and Zaman unrolls a long, thick rope ladder, hooks the last rung on a metal spike driven into the ground, and throws the bulk of it into the hole.
I inch backward, but Faruk stops me with a cold stare. “Your circumstances are quite good at present. They could be so much worse. Please,” he says as he points to the ladder, “see for yourself.”
