She nods.
“You’ve got information.”
“I don’t really know anything about their operation.”
“You’ve survived them longer than most. You gotta be smart. Strong.”
“I’m far from strong.” She shakes her head, and I hand her a bowl. “I’m alive because I’m stubborn and I was too afraid to run.”
“You’re sitting here now.”
Daisy takes a big bite and sucks on the spoon.
“You know how labs test things on rats? They say if you keep shocking them…” She glances at me to see if I’m paying attention. The corners of her mouth tip into a soft smile, but her eyes are dead-serious. “At some point the test subject or the prisoner just sits there and takes the pain. Won’t even try to escape.”
“You’re not a rat in a cage. You’re free.”
“As long as they have my kid, I’ll never be free.”
Fuck. “You have a kid?”
She licks her spoon, the tip of her tongue flicking strawberry from the bottom with zero self-consciousness. “Yup.”
“How old?”
“Five.”
“Boy or girl?”
She closes her eyes tight and sucks in a breath as her bottom lip wobbles. “I don’t know,” she finally admits, and for a minute I wonder if she’s fucking with me, but there’s no faking the pain etched in her expression when her eyes meet mine.
“What do you mean?”
“I gave birth to a baby. One I was never permitted to hold or to see. Hector says they are in an orphanage and when I work out my contract, he’ll give them to me.” She wipes at her cheeks.
“Do you believe that?”
“I have to.” Her voice cracks and she shimmies off the counter. “I think that’s enough sharing for one day.”
These bastards are worse than I thought. I’ve gotta tell Prez, but I know he’s with his woman tonight. I’ll fill him in tomorrow. I stick our bowls in the dishwasher and take her back to my room. “Get some sleep, Daisy.”
“Hope. My real name is Hope.”
“Nice to meet you, Hope.” I settle down on the floor, trying to get comfortable as she tosses and turns in my bed.
She’s asleep in less than a minute, curled up on her side under my comforter, arms folded close to her chest. I wonder if she realizes she’s snoring. The tiniest, saddest sound, like a baby trying to soothe itself back to sleep. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling while trying to count imaginary sheep. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to dream about what that girl’s been through, but the images are stuck behind my eyes, anyway.
I sit up as she kicks the covers off and rolls from side to side.
She’s still wearing my shirt, and in the dark, it looks even bigger on her. An hour passes. Maybe more. She doesn’t so much as stir, except for a sobbing hiccup that shakes the bed from time to time.
I can’t even begin to imagine all the horrors she’s survived.
Eventually, I drift off to sleep, but it doesn’t last long.
I awaken to her mumbling and crying in her sleep.
“Hey.” I shake her arm gently. “You’re having a nightmare.” She continues to flail and cry until her whole-body shakes, leaving me with little choice. I climb into bed and wrap my arms around her. “You’re okay,” I coo. “You’re safe with me, Babygirl.”
