The first daypasses in a blur of nothing. I wake to sunlight streaming through the windows, illuminating the forest in shades of green and gold. Objectively, it's stunningly beautiful.
I hate it.
I get dressed, go downstairs, and make myself breakfast with what's in the fridge. Hours pass, and I wander through the house, try to read, eat at the appropriate times, and try not to think too hard. I can see guards from my window, patrolling the perimeter with weapons visible. They go back and forth, scanning the tree line, communicating through radios.
Protecting me, or keeping me contained. Maybe both.
I think about calling out to them, trying to start a conversation to have some human contact and feel less alone.
But then I remember Dmitri, and the way Andrei looked at him for the crime of being friendly to me. I remember the guard with the knife through his eye for the crime of looking at me in my pajamas.
I stay silent. I'm terrified that if I talk to these men, if I try to befriend them or even just exchange pleasantries, Andrei will find out, and he'll hurt them. Or worse. So I stay in my room, alone, watching the guards from a distance and saying nothing.
The isolation is crushing.
The second day is worse. I wake from nightmares I can't quite remember, my heart racing and my sheets tangled around my legs. The room is too quiet, and the silence presses in on me from all sides.
I try to read again, but I can't focus. I try to sleep, but I've been doing too much of that, so it doesn't work, either.
I see the guards again. They never look up at my window or acknowledge my existence. I'm a ghost in this beautiful house. A prisoner no one will speak to.
By evening, I'm crying. I don't even know why. I just sit on the floor by the window, watching the sun set through the trees, tears streaming down my face.
I miss him.
The realization makes me cry harder, because I shouldn't miss him. I shouldn't want him here. Shouldn't feel this aching need for his presence, his voice, his touch.
He's the reason I'm here. The reason I'm alone. The reason my life has become this nightmare of violence and fear.
But I miss him anyway.
I miss the way he looked at me that night when he was tender, t the sound of his voice, even when it's cold and commanding. I miss the feeling of being seen, of mattering to someone, even if that someone is a monster.
I'm so fucking broken.
—
The next twodays blur together.
I stop trying to maintain any kind of routine. I sleep when exhaustion finally drags me under. I eat when I'm hungry. I exist, and I try not to think about how fucking lonely I am. And more often than not, I cry.
I want to go home. I want to see Andrei. And neither of those things can exist together in the same world.
On the fifth day, I hear a vehicle. I go to the window immediately, pressing my face against the glass. I'm desperatefor something, anything different. An SUV pulls up to the entrance and the door opens.
Andrei.
My heart twists in my chest, a rush of relief and anger and desire crashing through me until I can't begin to untangle them.
Even from this distance, I can see the exhaustion in the way he moves and the dark circles under his eyes. His clothes are rumpled and his hair is disheveled. He looks like he's been fighting a war.
Hehasbeen fighting a war, because of me. Because my father won't pay. Because I'm here instead of home where I belong.
I watch him speak to one of the guards, his posture tense. Then he disappears into the house. I hear his footsteps on the stairs and hear them stop outside my door. He doesn't bother knocking before he opens it.
He stands in the doorway, and up close he looks even worse. The exhaustion is carved into every line of his face. His eyes are bloodshot.
"Liesl." My name sounds rough in his mouth.
