Details.
I need details to keep me grounded. To keep the panic from swallowing me whole.
Because if I panic, I'll hyperventilate. And if I hyperventilate with tape over my mouth, I'll pass out. And if I pass out?—
No.
I have a baby now.
The thought cuts through everything else. My hand instinctively tries to move toward my stomach, but the zip ties hold me in place. I can't touch my belly. Can't protect the tiny life growing inside me.
But I can stay calm.
I can breathe.
I can survive.
Bruno will find me.
I know this with absolute certainty. The same way I know the sun will rise tomorrow, the same way I know my own name.Bruno Sartori will tear this city apart to get me back. He will burn down buildings and break bones and do terrible, violent things to anyone who stands between us.
He loves me.
He hasn't said the words yet. Not out loud. But I've seen it in his eyes when he looks at me. I've felt it in the way he touches my stomach, reverent and wondering. I've heard it in his voice when he calls me his wife.
Bruno will come.
I just have to stay alive until he does.
The room around me is dim. Concrete walls, no windows, a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. It flickers occasionally, casting strange shadows. There's a door to my left—heavy, metal, probably locked from the outside.
I've been here for... I don't know how long. An hour? Two? Time moves strangely when you're tied to a chair with tape over your mouth.
Footsteps.
I hear them before the door opens. Heavy boots on concrete, getting closer. My heart rate spikes, but I force myself to breathe slowly. In through the nose. Out through the nose. Steady.
The door swings open.
A man enters.
Not the scarred one who took me. This one is shorter, stockier, with a shaved head and a thick neck. He's wearing a black t-shirt that strains across his chest and jeans that look too tight. There's a gun holstered at his hip.
He looks at me like I'm furniture. Something to be moved or used or discarded.
"She's awake," he calls over his shoulder.
Another set of footsteps. The scarred man appears in the doorway, and my stomach clenches at the sight of him. He's the one who pressed the gun to my spine at the orphanage. The onewho threatened to kill me in front of the children. The one who cut my finger.
His eyes are still empty. Dead. Like there's nothing behind them but darkness.
"Good." He walks toward me, and I force myself not to flinch. "The package was delivered. Now we wait."
Package.
They sent something to Bruno. My ring, probably.
If they want money, this will end easily.
