I. The Others

“Three women who have been held captive inside a household in a Hispanic neighborhood in Cleveland, Ohio have finally managed to escape. One of the women finally got her chance to run out of the house and call 911 yesterday with the help of her captor’s neighbor. Since then, the story of these three women who have been missing for eleven years has shaken the world. Family, friends, neighbors–and even the police–cannot imagine the physical, psychological and sexual torture these women went through all these years. Their story is coming up next.”

She watched the news without feeling anything. Three women down , she thought. Three women safe .

As the television flashed a popcorn commercial, it went black.

She didn’t move an inch, a great achievement for her over the past ten years. She simply stayed motionless and unblinking in her old, tattered winged chair. But despite her great control over her movement, her mind was in the same state of intense awareness since that first day as she felt him move about behind her. She heard the remote touch the wooden table. She felt the side of his body brush against the top of her head as he walked to the window to close the blinds.

Three women escaped, she chanted in her head, fully aware of his presence.

Three women finally safe. He walked to the door and flicked the switch before he walked out without a word.

She was suddenly surrounded by the familiar darkness.

“Three women safe,” she whispered under her breath, finding it hard to recognize her own voice.

She blinked her eyes and blindly walked to her bed. Lying down, she closed her eyes and saw the same darkness.

Slowly, her mind slowed down and was gently lulled to sleep.

That night, she dreamed for the first time in months. She dreamed she was walking out the door, blinded by sunlight. She dreamed of a man who helped her run next door. She dreamed she was calling 911.

Those three women were not the only ones out there.

There were others.

Hope was one of them.

II. The Last Scene

It was a typical day for her. A day she started with a bowl of cereal, milk and coffee and a bunch of emails from producers, directors and her personal assistant.

Her mother, Georgina Madden, would make sure that she was ready one hour before her appointment, but because of the tricks she learned from her daughter’s years in the business, they would show up thirty minutes late.

They arrived at the set in her van and she was immediately ushered to her dressing room for her scene.

“You’re late again,” the director said, holding a bunch of papers.

“I woke up late,” she answered, reading her script while the makeup artist worked on her face.

“We made some changes with the scene.”

“The kidnapping?”

“Yes.”

She knew there would be changes. The original script was actually bad. “What are they? Please don’t make me jump out the car. I hate it when I have to use a double, you know that.”

“There won’t be anything like that.”

“Then how do you suppose I escape?”

The director eyed her above his spectacles. “You won’t.”

“What? That will change the whole damn story!”

“That’s the point. We decided to change the damn story.”

“Then what happens?”

“You don’t get away. You get kidnapped. You will be driven away to a strange place. It will not be easy to escape. That will be your challenge.”

She scoffed. “I am a spy. I should be able to get away easily.”

“You will. In time. Here’s the new script. We’ll do the kidnapping scene today. We’ll fly to Nebraska tomorrow for the rest of the takes. Don’t be late because the plane will go whether with or without you.”

“Does my mother know about this change?” she asked as she leafed through the new script.

“She’s your manager, of course she knows. We told her yesterday. She was okay with it.”

 She sighed but nodded. There were things about her work that her mother worked on that she didn’t know until it was too late. “Fine. It’s not like I can do anything about it.”

“That’s settled then. Make it fast. We’ll need the sunlight for today’s scene,” the director said before walking out the room.

“They think having the name Hope Madden can get me anywhere. In the end, I just follow orders,” she complained to her makeup artist who just smiled at her warmly. “Make sure the scratches look real,” she added, reading through her new lines.

There really wasn’t much because the scene was mostly about her being drugged and dragged to a black sedan that would take her out of her character’s secret flat. All she had to do was say, “Shit,” once her character realized she was drugged. And then she would have to make the most believable acting of someone who was fighting to stay conscious while her kidnapper carried her to the car over his shoulder. She would try the door but it would be locked.

They would have to do the scene a lot of times to get different angles. And once she was ready, the filming began.

“Let’s do the last take,” the director said after a while. “We’ll do everything from the start only this time, we’ll take a shot of the car as it drives away,” he said to the camera guy who nodded.

The crew proceeded to driving the car out of the platform where it had been standing while they did the take of Hope struggling inside the car as it drove away.

“Hope,” the director called as hope started for the stairs up the flat.

She turned and stared at the man. She was already exhausted and just wanted the day to be over so she could take a rest.

“Let’s get this in one shot. Remember to look out the rear window with a silent cry for help before you lose consciousness.”

“We already did that, didn’t we?”

“I need a good take from afar, kid.”

“Fine,” she answered.

“Hope, honey, do you want some coffee?” her mother asked as she started for the stairs. Georgina Madden was a beautiful woman in her early thirties. Stark black hair that went just above her shoulders but for some miracle could never be blown out of its perfect arrangement. She had passed on to hope her sap green eyes, but not her high cheek bones and square jaw. Hope’s small nose was definitely not from her mother’s as well which was pointed and big. But mother and daughter dressed like their status. Georgina was the typical classy mother in sleek dresses and high end heels. Hope was the typical teenage star dressed in designer clothing (most often sponsored) that went with the current trend.

Georgina had Hope when she was twenty. Hope never met her real dad. Not that her mother had any other relationships since then. It had always been just the two of them since she could remember.

“Mom, I’ve been drinking a cup of coffee since we started filming. I think I’m fine. They told me we’ll fly to Nebraska tomorrow. Have you packed my things?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you last night. Your bags are ready. I’ll wait in the van. Do great!” Georgina said, pumping her fist in the air as she watched her daughter disappear up the stairs.

After some retouch, the cameras started running.

Hope went to the coffee machine, poured a cup of coffee for the nth time that day and took a few sips. She could have just pretended she was doing it, but she wanted everything to appear real. She didn’t want to take the risk and hear a cry of “cut” from the director. Everything was silent as she took the cup with her to the couch where she pretended to read the newspaper the production crew made up especially for that scene. She took a few more sips and waited for the right time to say “Shit,” which she did after a few seconds.

And that was when the drug took effect. She knew she should act dazed, but she was no longer merely internalizing the scene. She was actually feeling it.

A tinge of panic started at the back of her mind when the fabricated print on the newspaper started to blur. This was not supposed to happen , she thought. But the letters and the picture of the actor her character was supposed to catch continued to zoom in and out of her vision.

She tried to get up and say that she was not feeling well, but that didn’t happen. She fell right back in the couch and that was when full panic set in. She looked around helplessly, but the room started to whirl with her.

Then she saw the man approach, the same extra actor she had been acting with today.

Her mouth opened, trying to ask him for help. But no one seemed to notice anything.

They think I’m acting , Hope thought.

The man loomed over her for a moment but she couldn’t make out his face. He pulled her out of the couch by her hand and carried her over his shoulder as he did countless of times since filming started.

Hope knew they were descending the stairs now. The cameraman was following them, focused on her.

“Hel…” she tried to cry out, but no one seemed to hear.

Something’s wrong , Hope thought. Help!

They had now reached the bottom of the steps and the man was walking to the car. She tried to punch him on his shoulder as he opened the backdoor, but she could barely lift a finger. He threw her limp body inside and Hope gathered all her strength to reach for the handle. The man was behind the wheel by then and locked the doors before Hope could even pull with what was left of her strength.

The engine started.

She felt she was floating outside space. She was trying to move but there was no movement. Why can’t anyone see that something was wrong? I need to go to the hospital!

“Let’s go for a ride, Hope,” the man said, changing gear. He wasn’t supposed to say that. He was not supposed to say anything.

And he called her by her name. Her panic went full blast and the adrenaline kicked in. But she was still weak. All she could manage was whirl around and pound her sweating palms against the rear window. “Help!” she managed to cry out. But everyone didn’t move. The cameras continued to roll, the director still in his chair looking at his tiny monitor, her assistant still standing at one side with Hope’s coat over her arm just waiting for the shoot to finish.

“Help!” she cried out once more as the car turned at one corner.

“Sleep now, Hope. We’ll be driving for quite a while.”

Hope tried to cry out once more but the drug had already overpowered her adrenaline and she slowly found herself in a dark place–a very dark place.

Hope’s eyes opened and she found herself in the present, in the same dark room she had been living in for the past ten years.

Her dream started very nicely but why did it have to end to that one, distant memory? For everyone who witnessed that last scene, it was the last time they saw her alive, the child superstar who had a big future ahead of her. For Hope, it was the start of a bad dream.

For many years, she had hoped what everyone thought after that day was real: that she was dead and that the last take they got of her crying for help was the best of all her performance.

A honk from the street downstairs shook her from her thoughts. She climbed out her bed and walked to the window, peered through the blinds and looked down beyond the iron bars that had rusted through the years.

A couch was being carried down a home mover truck. A young man was holding the door open next door. It was a common sight for Hope. The house next door had always been on lease since she could remember and its renters frequently changed.

 The only thing that stayed the same was the house she was held imprisoned in.

Hers was the house that never changed. Hers was the house where no one else had moved in, no one else had left.

III. What Happens Next Door

Hope heard the door open before he turned the knob. Another instinct she had developed over the years. From the moment he would step on the first step leading up to her room and to the very last one he would take before opening her door, she knew. She could hear everything without even actually hearing a sound. It was his presence that was more powerful than any stimulus around her.

When the door swung open, she turned her head and looked at him. He was still the same man. Apart from his graying hair, nothing really changed over the course of ten years. The fire in his eyes was still there, never wavering. And that fire was still focused on her. She could feel different emotions in those deep, dark eyes. Desperation, anger, irritation, murder, kindness, eagerness…all of them mixed into one.

She stared at those dark globes as if it was only natural. Ten years ago, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at them, but she learned that he liked her looking back at him. It somehow gave him the satisfaction that he couldn’t get in other aspects.

He smiled at her and placed the plates at the bedside table beside her tattered wing chair.

“I can’t eat downstairs?” she asked, her voice neutral, her eyebrows arched in question.

He shook his head and spoke in his raspy, cold voice she got accustomed to. “No. We have a new neighbor. He might get too friendly and drop by like the last one. We can’t be too risky, you know that.”

She nodded. She understood. He was pleased.

He started to turn around and Hope gathered all the courage she had saying, “How about–”

“Eat, Hope. I want you healthy. You don’t want to be sick, do you?”

Hope closed her mouth and shook her head. Getting sick would be a difficult matter. For her, there was no hospitalization. She was her own doctor and nurse.

“Good. Eat.”

And then he was gone.

She climbed off her bed and bent down to grab her plate from the table. Scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast. The same meal for the past three months.

Ten years ago, she didn’t dare eat anything he served her. She now knew it was stupid of her to even think hunger strike would work. Over the years, she had managed to make herself eat whatever he served her. The fear of being poisoned was long gone. Poison would be a miracle for her now, she thought as she carried the plate near the window.

She didn’t have a clock in her room so she didn’t know what time it was. She could turn on the television, but it would make a lot of sound and she wouldn’t hear him come upstairs if he would. She had to do the counting in her mind.

With her fingers, she picked up a piece of bacon fried in old oil and fed it to her mouth. She picked up the fork with her other hand and opened the blinds and then the window. With the fork, she started her work. She held the utensil by the head and used the handle to saw the rusty iron bar she had been working on for the past month. She was now on her third iron bar. Slowly but surely, she thought.

She had to be careful though. He shouldn’t notice anything wrong with the fork or the spoon. As she worked with the iron bar and the fork, her other hand was busy feeding herself.

Maybe she was too immersed in her work and her food that she didn’t notice the man behind the window across from hers. And when she did, her heart stopped. She immediately withdrew her hand from the iron bar and stepped away with her plate. She went back to close the blind, getting one last glance of the man. Their new neighbor was staring right at her.

Devin Frye was busy restocking his shelf with books when he noticed a small movement from the window across his room. He thought he saw someone from the room earlier when they were moving his things inside, but he never thought of it. Curious, he took a step in front of his own bare window to look.

And then he saw her.

She was doing something, but he couldn’t clearly see what it was.

He was not staring, he was merely curious. Curious was his job once and his new neighbor was feeding him with so much of that with whatever she was doing. And much more when she suddenly looked up, saw him and within seconds disappeared.

New neighborhood and things were already picking up, he thought as he returned to his work.

As much as he was curious about his new neighbor, he was not the type to bake a pie and bring it next door to make friends. His move was to start something new, not make friends.

But out of old habits, Devin went back to the same window to observe. If he couldn’t make friends with his neighbors, he should at least know them by their activities and actions. And he thought it was too early for anyone to clean window grills.

He dragged a chair and sat down beside the window. The blinds behind the woman’s window were still closed. It was not weird for him at all. People tend to be cautious in most neighborhoods. You could never trust anyone other than the people you lived with.

For the next five minutes, nothing seemed to be moving inside the room. He thought he saw a shadow pass by the window once, probably to check if he was still there.

He gave it another ten minutes. A man wearing a red baseball cap emerged downstairs. The man looked around, his hands deep inside the front pockets of his jeans. And then his eyes went to Devin’s room. Devin disappeared out of sight within seconds, jumping to the wall beside his window.

Old habits, he thought.

He counted to twenty seconds and slowly walked across the room, passing his window. The man was gone.

Devin scoffed and shook his head. Laughing at himself, he returned his chair back to its proper place. He was crazy if he thought there was something weird going on next door. Every family had their quirks. Every person had their own crazy things. It didn’t mean they were worth his time.

He was back to his books in no time, organizing each one religioiusly.

That was when the doorbell rang.

He hesitated for a moment. No one knew where he lived. And if it was a neighbor trying to welcome him in the neighborhood, he didn’t have time for that.

The doorbell rang again.

He went to the window facing the street and looked down.

The man in red baseball cap was standing before his door.

Devin frowned. He walked to the other window facing the room next door. He saw something move. It was the same shadow and this time, it was standing before the other window facing the street.

She’s watching baseball cap guy, he thought. Did she send him here? He wondered.

The doorbell rang again.

Devin decided to give in to his own curiosity.

He walked downstairs and to his front door.

He opened the door.

Hope watched as their new neighbor welcomed Carl inside his new home. She was not worried, but she was scared the guy would tell Carl about the window incident this morning.

Visiting the new neighbor was not new for her. He would always make sure that the neighbors wouldn’t get curious. It was always the same story. But the incident this morning was new.

She paced around her room when Carl disappeared inside the man’s house. She couldn’t be found out. If she did, she was dead. This room was her only exit. The others were dead ends.

The visit lasted for almost an hour and it was always the same thing. Carl would get out and the neighbor would follow, looking up her window with sympathy.

Same old story.

Simple but never suspicious.

But this new guy was different. Yes, he did look up her room not with sympathy but with curiosity. It was the kind that would alarm Carl, she thought as she watched the man walk back inside his own door.

Before Carl could come up to her room and find her standing before the window, she hurried to her wing chair and turned on the television. She didn’t know if he would come right away. But he eventually would.

Her heart was calm when he entered and turned off the box later that afternoon. She heard the plate touch the table beside her. Her second meal.

“Well?” she asked, looking straight at the blank television. She could ask him questions as long as they were the right one. And they had to be at the right moment. And they had to be according to his mood.

Right now, she sensed he was in a good mood.

His story worked. And the neighbor didn’t tell him about her breakfast escapade.

“As usual, he bought it,” he said with pride. “He’s new in town, trying to find a new life.”

“Same old story,” she commented in her deadpan tone.

Carl chuckled. “Eat your supper, Hope. Before it gets cold.”

“Thanks,” she answered just to feed his mood.

Maybe it was not time to ask about the other matter. She didn’t want to spoil his night and ultimately hers.

She picked up her plate the moment he went out the door.

Another safe night, she thought as she picked up the fork. She had already used it by the look of the handle. She then checked the spoon. No, she couldn’t use it either. She was running out of utensils.

She’d have to use the last wire tonight. And when that one wore out, she’d have to find other means.

Her neighbor might still be curious about the window incident. She couldn’t risk it.

Hope’s hand unconsciously went to the metal band around her right ankle. She’d have to work on her chains tonight.

For the rest of the day, Devin’s thoughts constantly went back to the odd visit he received from Carl next door.

It was odd in many ways. Carl was odd.

But he was used to odd. He had encountered a lot of them in the past.

The guy didn’t do anything but tell him about his daughter and the worries he carried.

They never even knew each other for him to talk about such matter. But Devin figured the guy might have been out of company for some time and he found a shock absorber in his new neighbor.

On the other hand, Devin was no shock absorber. He was far from that.

There’s something wrong somewhere, he thought.

He stopped himself and shook his head.

It was not his problem to think about what was wrong. He had a job to do.

He had a new life to live.

His neighbors could live their own without him.

IV. Old News

She stirred in her sleep. A noise from the bedroom window next door bothered her.

She had developed a sensitive sense of hearing and the whirring of some machine disturbed the little peace she could gather. Slowly, she climbed out of bed and walked to the window that faced the bedroom next door. She dragged her right foot slower than the left to keep the chain, that extended to the far corner of the room, from making noise.

Carl hated noise coming from upstairs.

Walking closer to the window, Hope peered through the blinds. The lights were still on in the man’s bedroom. He was standing on a chair facing the wall right across his own window. He was holding up a mechanical drill and was on the process of doing another round of disturbing sound.

Hope could just go back to bed and sleep, but if there was something she hated, it was the presence of such sound. She opened her blinds, rolling it up. Her heart was racing for two reasons. One, she was infuriated with the noise. Two, this would be the first time she would have a contact with a stranger–however short it would be. Because that was how she planned it.

She opened her window next and waited for the man to turn around. That didn’t happen. He continued on with his noisy work.

Hope looked around her for something to throw. The man’s house was just about three meters away from Carl’s, one of the reasons why she wanted this room in the first place. It was why she had been working on this very window for her escape plan.

She padded to the small bathroom in her room, this time carrying the chain in her hand. She reached for the toothpaste, unscrewed the cover and carried it back to the window. She rolled toothpaste cap in her hand while waiting for the mechanical drill to stop. When it did, she took a deep breath and threw.

It didn’t make such a big noise, but the sound was distinct enough to catch the man’s attention.

He turned around on top of the chair. He looked over his shoulder and spotted her.

Her heart was still racing as she made a motion with her across her neck.

The man frowned. She repeated the motion.

He lifted the mechanical drill, his face full of question.

Hope nodded, stepped back and closed her window. The man had jumped off his chair and was walking to the window when she dropped the blinds.

With her heart still in a panic state against her chest, Hope quickly went back to her bed. She didn’t care if the man understood her. Fear was back. What if Carl heard her? What if he found out she made contact?

Devin didn’t think much about the incident. Carl, the woman’s father, had already warned him about her condition.

Of course, he understood what she meant. He was done working anyway so he placed the mechanical drill back in its cache and worked with the screw on the wall. That being done, he brought the black, round clock to hang. She stepped back, hands on his hips, and appreciated his work.

Before getting to bed, he returned downstairs to check on the three locks on his front door and the back door. He secured all the windows.

He could never be too careless.

Back in his bedroom, he turned on the television. Every channel was giving an update on the Ohio kidnapping of the three girls, now women. He shook his head.

He, among others, knew very well that there were monsters out there. There were people who would be willing to kill and torture for gain and satisfaction.

Like the three women, Devin knew what it was like to be afraid for his life.

Hope woke up relieved. She couldn’t believe what she had done last night. Taking a big risk as that was stupid, she thought. She shouldn’t have done it.

Slipping out of bed, she felt the heavy drag of the chain in her foot. Carl had always made it a point that she couldn’t go anywhere further her small room. It was long enough for her to move around and enter the tiny bathroom. She’d have to shower with the doors open though because the chains wouldn’t allow the doors to stay closed.

Her bathroom door was just two steps away from her bed. She glanced at the wall right next to her bed. Apart from the window, she had been working on that part as well. It was where the chain was attached to.

It was no easy task, but she was getting there.

Carl entered her room a while later with the same breakfast as yesterday. He talked about the weather and going back to work now that his vacation was over.

She tried her best to listen and answer his questions.

It was better to talk to him as calmly and normally as she could. She learned that the hard way.

When he left, Hope immediately went back to her work. Making sure that their neighbor was not in the room, she went to work with the iron bar. She checked the window across from hers once again. It was open. Her eyes flickered to the opposite wall of the man’s window and she saw it.

A clock.

It was now ten in the morning.

Hope smiled for the first time in years. She could finally tell what time it was.

That afternoon, she watched the news.

It was still about the Ohio kidnapping.

She was about to turn the box off when the news changed into something she had always wanted to see and not see at the same time.

Her mother was walking down the street wearing a pair of sunglasses, the reporters following her with microphones, phones and their cameramen.

Hope wanted to jump on the screen.

Georgina Madden had aged beautifully the last time she had seen her. But the sadness in her face as she tried to block the reporters on the way to her car was more visible than the wrinkles around her mouth.

A drop of tear escaped Hope’s eye. She swallowed the whimper that wanted to escape.

Mom, she silently cried.

“Miss Madden, your daughter has disappeared ten years ago. How does the Ohio kidnapping make you feel?”

“Does it give you hope?”

“Do you think Hope Madden is also alive out there, being held captive?

The series of questions about her daughter finally made Georgina Madden halt and face everyone with a strong face. Hope knew it was all just for everyone else to see. And knowing her mother was hurting deep inside brought a great feeling of helplessness and pain in her.

“I know that my daughter is alive somewhere. And if she is being held captive as you all suggest, then I want to tell her to be strong because mommy is not giving up,” Georgina Madden said in a strong, shaky voice before she climbed inside her car.

Then the news anchor and his partner talked more about Hope’s disappearance ten years ago and how it might be the same as the Ohio incident.

Too late for old news, Hope thought.

Hope heard it right before she turned off the television.

It came again.

Three silent knocks. Then two.

Hope stood up and went to the wall beside her bed. She slid down on the floor and leaned against it, the rusty metal hook where her chain was attached to just a few inches away from her right arm.

She took a deep breath and stared blankly at the opposite wall across the room. There was nothing there. No picture frame, no drawings. Just plain, white, empty wall.

“Was that your mom?”

Hope didn’t answer the voice from the other side of the wall behind her at once.

After a while, she nodded her head and answered, “Yes.”

V. Hope in the Barrel

Patty was Hope’s only friend for three years now.

Carl brought Patty in when she was just seventeen. She was at the peak of her high school life.

The only thing that went wrong was her boyfriend who tried to come on to her after prom. Carl rescued her only to be brought in his own home to be another victim of his fantasies.

Hope never saw Patty. Not once.

They could go down if they behaved, but never together.

She just knew that Patty had red hair and blue eyes. In their long talks at most nights, they learned more about each other than the other people they had befriended in the past.

They had developed their own signals, like the five knocks to check if the other was safe to talk and the three rapid ones they would make if one was about to be in trouble. In fact, there were too many they could have a conversation with just a series of knocks.

But in nights like this, when Carl was downstairs in his room, knocking conversations were out of the question.

“You think she really believes you’re alive?” Patty’s soft, whispered voice asked.

“Yes,” Hope whispered back, fingering the anchor-shaped pendant held by the gold chain around her neck. It was one of the things Carl had let her keep. It was customized only for her by a famous jeweler and that it was given to her by her mother on the first time she was nominated for the Oscars years ago. It was the only thing that linked her to her mother.

“How’s the window coming?” Patty asked again, changing the subject.

“Getting there.”

“Do you need help?”

“I can manage, thanks.”

Patty knew of her plan and they would escape together. They didn’t have to agree on that. It was no longer needed. Wherever the other would be, the other should follow.

Devin’s phone rang. His senses flared up.

No one else knew his number.

If the phone was ringing, it could only mean two things: He is either safe or good as dead if he didn’t move again.

“Yes,” he answered without saying a proper greeting.

“You don’t have to sound so uptight after settling down in a new place, man,” the man at the other end said with a chuckle.

Devin breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re calling to check if I am still alive.”

“Of course! That’s my job!”

“Now you know I am. Anything more?”

“How are the neighbors? Nothing suspicious?”

He thought for a moment. He remembered the girl at the bedroom across from his. And then he remembered what her father had told her the other day. “I am fine. Odd neighbors, but not suspicious.”

“Odd is suspicious.”

“I am okay. I started working again. Why? Is there a problem?”

“No, nothing you should worry about. Your papers are being worked on as we speak and you may finally have them before the month ends.”

“Which month?”

“Next month, of course, stupid. I have to go. Don’t get killed.”

Devin replaced his phone back on the receiver and climbed back up to his bedroom. He had some reading to do for a job he got just the other day online.

He found her again by the window, doing something on her window grills. This time, with the sunlight and with a much longer time, he got a good look at her. She looked pale. Not the sickly kind, but the kind that had never been out in the sun for a very long time. Her black hair was too long it was making her age older. He knew she was younger than what she looked like and she could get by better than her state if she could just find some time to–.

Devin shook his head. The girl’s father, Carl, had told her of her problem.

“Hey!” he couldn’t help but shout through his opened window.

Startled, she withdrew her arm from the grill and stood in shock, looking at him.

Devin smiled. He was still human. He needed some interaction. “Sorry about last night!”

The girl frowned, then she began to get restless.

“About the drill?” he reminded her.

She must have remembered because her eyes immediately flew to the clock on the wall behind him.

“It won’t happen again,” he added.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped back and closed the blinds once again.

Devin stood there for a while before shrugging to sit before his computer.

Hope’s heart was racing. Did he see what she was doing?

Before her heart beat could go back to normal, she heard Carl’s footsteps. She managed to fly back to her chair before he entered, wearing his cop uniform.

“I am going to work now. Remember, Hope, no stupid things. You know the rules. Remember that you cannot talk to our neighbor.”

“Yes, of course,” she answered, feigning disinterest. He liked it when she acted normal around him. As long as you followed his rules, you would be safe.

He watched her for a long time before nodding. “Lunch will be late. You’ll have to wait for an early dinner.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be watching.”

Hope nodded. Her mind was imagining the single camera Carl had installed in the corner of her room two years ago. It couldn’t see the window she was working on, but she had to stay in the range of the camera’s view so Carl could watch over her every now and then as he claimed.

Without another word, he left her alone to go to work and save people.

Finally, when his car drove out the driveway, Hope turned on the television.

A news flash was going on.

When she realized what it was, the blood drained down her face.

“A shocking news has been opened–literally–a few minutes ago,” the lady in front of the camera was saying. Hope’s lips quivered as she read the headlines: Hope Madden’s Body Found. “Behind me is a storage space that has been put to auction just this very morning, four hours ago. The winner of the auction, Herbert Fuentes, opened his winning storage space and found something entirely different. Apart from a variety of furniture, he discovered a sealed barrel. He called the police right after he opened it. Inside was a decomposed body and the smell is so overpowering even until now. The police immediately took the body back for identification, but our sources say that it could be Hope Madden. Hope has been a famous–”

Hope switched the channel with shaking hand.

The same news of her found in a barrel was being discussed, but this time, they were showing footage of her mother walking out of a big building with tears streaming down her face. A man she didn’t recognize was holding Georgina Madden’s hand in a strong grip, ushering her back to her car.

“We have sources inside the building saying that Georgina Madden, Hope Madden’s mother, identified the remains in an instant. We don’t know the exact condition of the remains, but we will keep you updated,” a voice was saying.

“No,” Hope whispered shakily, a tear falling down her eye. “No. That’s not me.”

She pushed the button once more.

A picture of her gold anchor pendant was being flashed on the screen. It was inside an evidence plastic bag. Hope’s hand flew to her gold chain, gripping the exact same pendant.

“Hope Madden’s mother identified the necklace as her daughter’s. Georgina Madden claimed that Hope was the only person on this planet to have this pendant. The necklace, said Hope’s mother, is unique in the world. The fact that it is customized with diamond studs for detail made it easy for Georgina Madden to identify. But this necklace is not the primary clue as to whether or not it was Hope Madden inside the barrel found this morning. Our source says that they could approximately point the time of the body’s death close to the time when Hope had been kidnapped eleven years ago. As of the moment, authorities will not disclose or affirm any of these details for there are still tests to be done. Stay tuned for more news.”

Hope turned off the television and stood up.

There were too many information for her to think of, but what struck her the most was the pendant. Who else could have the same pendant as hers? Who?

Five knocks came from Patty’s side.

Hope didn’t answer. She couldn’t talk right now.

She went to the window and looked out. Three more bars and she could climb out. Three more bars and she could start working on her chains and escape.

But what was the use? Everyone was already thinking she was dead, found in a barrel.

Her mother was starting to break down.

“Hey,” the man called out from across her window.

She raised her head sharply.

“Did you see the news?”

Hope just looked at the man. He was not attractive. His dark, brown hair didn’t seem right for his black brows. He was lean, but didn’t appear to be that strong. He was just like every ordinary guy, but the smile on his face almost made everything about him right. It was the first, real smile she had seen in the past ten years.

And it almost made her want to cry.

But she couldn’t. She had to get back to her chair, where the camera would see her. Carl could already be at work by now and he would be watching closely.

“It’s sad, isn’t it? Hope Madden in a barrel,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Hope said before she could even stop herself. And then she stepped back once more to return to her chair.

Hope in a barrel.

She wasn’t in a barrel. She could wish she was in one, because the one she was in right now was worse than death itself.

VI. The Talking Neighbor

Devin finished his workout which only happened in his basement for his own safety. Going out in the neighborhood and becoming a member in a gym was something he was not ready for just yet. He would have to survey the area better.

He couldn’t be too careless. His enemies were keen and careful with every move they make.

It had been a week now since he moved in.

His work online was doing good, but not great. But it was still money.

After breakfast, he decided to go back to his room. He had no one to talk to and a good book might be good to help him with his problem. He could read it aloud.

Though he had not seen what was going on in the news, he could tell what was being talked about because he could hear the sound from his neighbor.

People were still talking about Hope Madden being inside a barrel.

Devin shook his head. Surely there could be more news to discuss.

Let Hope Madden rest in peace , he thought.

---

When Hope woke up, she immediately went to the television and turned it on. For a week now, she had been religiously following the case of the body in the barrel.

People still claimed that it was her.

Her mother was distressed and it seemed that she believed her daughter was really dead.

It was all because of the necklace, a replica of the original one.

Hope never asked Carl about the body in the barrel. If he had anything to do with it or if it was just purely accidental that the same body, with bones the same old as she was when she disappeared, had been a victim of someone else.

After all, Carl was not the only evil out there. What happened in Ohio was enough proof of that.

And if Carl did something like that, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

Before Carl walked in, she had already turned off the news. He left her breakfast and went to work.

Patty was silent today, probably working on with her own chains.

Hope turned the television back on and worked with her window grills as she listened to another recount of the “barrel” case.

She listened at the statements given by authorities.

The necklace was found in the barrel along with the body.

Georgina Madden confirmed it.

The body inside the barrel had decomposed and experts were working with the bones.

The authorities would not give any more information.

The public was eager to know more.

Hope listened as if her life depended on it. Her heart raced in fear that people would start to believe that she was really dead. But most of all, she feared that her mother would give up and start mourning. After that, she would stop hoping her daughter was alive.

Hope would start to die.

Her attention was cut off when she noticed some activity across the window from hers.

Ever since that night when she answered her neighbor, she had been extra aware of his presence and she saw him even before he did.

---

When he passed by his window, he saw the lady again.

Whatever she was working on in that window, he was not interested. For all he knew, she was in her own world of make-believe as what her father had said.

“Hey!” he called out, glad to hear his own voice.

Her head snapped toward him, but it didn’t seem like he surprised her this time.

He tried to smile. “What’s up?”

Surprisingly, she did not step back and disappear. She just stood there staring at him like he was an apparition.

Well, at least it was an improvement.

“I met your father last week.”

This time she took one step back.

Devin decided he should not continue talking to her about her father’s visit a week ago. It would only lead to the topic of her being schizophrenic and he figured it was not a good idea to tell someone she was crazy.

Instead, he leaned against his open window and looked to the right and up at the sky. “It is a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” he asked.

There was no answer.

He could see her still standing there, looking at him with the same look: Alarm.

She was dressed in a baggy shirt that needed a good washing. He couldn’t see what she was wearing for her pants, but he had the urge to talk to her father again about her comfort. Her room was so dark, her windows had grills and she looked like she was a little bit malnourished.

But he was not her father. He didn’t know what was best for her. He was just a new neighbor who would soon leave if things went well.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her look at the sky. “Yes,” she answered and he barely heard it.

This time, Devin turned his head to the lady. He had to think of something else to say before she would step back into her dark room again.

He was in need of someone to talk to so he could keep his sanity.

His neighbor was his only option as of that moment because she was the safest one.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She blinked and stepped back. And then she walked away.

Devin shook his head. Wrong question.

But there was something else he noticed.

He heard some tinkling sound when the girl walked away. He never noticed that before, but now he did. It seemed like she was dragging something along with her.

His brows furrowed.

His neighbor was getting more and more mysterious. And he loved mysteries. And the fact that she was crazy, as her father claimed, was making it even more exciting.

He promised he’d ask the right question next time and he’d get through to her before it was time to pack up again and leave.

---

Hope was leaning against the wall she shared with Patty when she heard the news.

“What are you doing with your chains?” she heard Carl’s voice.

“Nothing,” she heard Patty answer.

“You are lying, Patty.”

And then the voices were gone. The sound of something hitting flesh followed and Hope buried her head in her arms as she listened.

She searched for any sign of Patty’s breathing. She heard a small whimper of pain. Patty.

She heard a grunt followed by another lashing sound against flesh. Carl.

She closed in on Patty’s sounds–the whimper, the groan, the cry of pain.

“You should learn your lesson. No touching the chains until I say so,” Carl’s voice growled.

Hope’s heart hammered against her chest when she heard Patty’s door close.

She lifted her chains and sat on her bed.

Her door opened.

Carl’s eyes went to her and travelled down the iron clasp around her ankle. He followed the trail of the chain where it was attached to the wall.

And then he smiled.

“You dinner is ready downstairs.”

The beating against her chest started to slow down. “I am going down?”

“You have been a good girl.” He walked to her and took out his keys. He freed her from her chains. He held out his hand for her.

It was the very hand that had brought a lot of nightmares.

But she had to take it.

And she did without a trace of fear or disgust.

Going downstairs meant she had the chance to have a decent meal. And maybe a few metals she could use for the grills.

---

“Our new neighbor seems to have set up his bedroom across from yours,” Carl said as he munched on his food.

“I don’t know. Did he?” she asked, forking the mashed potato.

Carl’s kitchen was okay. Very neat and organized for a man living alone, which made it hard for Hope to take anything without him knowing it.

“What happened to the other girl?” she asked.

He threw her one of his looks and she closed her mouth.

“Eat, Hope, before I drag you back upstairs.”

Hope knew what ‘drag you back upstairs’ meant.

She was not willing to go through it.

“Wash the dishes,” Carl ordered when they were done. He stood up and before walking out of the kitchen, he brushed his fingers against her shoulders and across the back of her neck. Hope shivered in fear.

It was a warning.

Make one wrong move and you’d regret it.

Slowly, Hope started working on the table. She grabbed the bread he left unfinished on his plate and hid it inside her pocket. She added her own and went to the sink.

She carefully washed the dishes while she searched with her eyes for anything she could bring upstairs. She saw the bread knife and she hesitated.

She turned her head over her shoulder. She could see him sitting on his couch watching the news.

“You’re on the news,” he said with a laugh.

She did not answer.

Instead, she brushed away all hesitations and grabbed the bread knife with her soapy hand and pushed it between the waistbands of her pants. She fixed her shirt and continued with her work, her heart almost leaping out of her chest.

Return it, a big part of her brain said.

But this was now or never.

He would not notice, she reasoned.

He always notices.

No, he never noticed the grills.

The antagonist part of her brain went silent.

“Are you done?” Carl’s voice said behind her after a while.

“Yes,” she said, drying her shaking hands.

“Back to your room,” he ordered, motioning with his head. Hope went ahead, one hand pressing against her abdomen to keep the knife in place.

“Everyone seems to think you’re dead in a barrel,” Carl said behind her.

“Yeah,” she uttered in response.

They reached her room, passing by Patty’s quiet door.

Carl replaced her chains. He stood up and frowned down at her where she was sitting down on the bed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

His eyes went to her hand where she was holding the knife behind her shirt. She nonchalantly moved it away, her heart beginning to race.

Carl nodded and said, “Sleep tight, Hope.” He followed it with a dry chuckle. “Everyone thinks you’re dead in a barrel,” he said more to himself as he walked out the door.

Hope flew to her feet and grabbed the knife from her waistbands and hit it under one pillow. She had to find a place to keep it tomorrow when Carl left for work.

She searched the wall that separated her from Patty’s room. And when her hands found the loose wood plank, she gave it a slight push and squeezed the bread through the small gap in between.

“Eat,” she whispered before putting the plank in place.

“Thanks,” Patty’s pained voice whispered.

For weeks now, Patty had received a lot of punishments. It was not a good sign and she knew her friend was in a lot of pain than she would admit.

Hope nodded and slipped back in bed.

Now she had a knife.

And Carl better not find out about it because they had to escape soon before one of them ended up dead.

VII. Peeping Tom

Devin decided to go out the following day to grab some stuff from the hardware.

He needed more locks, he thought.

As he passed by a shelf with binoculars displayed on it, he hesitated. He should not spend a lot.

Before he changed his mind, he grabbed one and walked to the counter.

He paid in cash.

As he was walking out of the doors, he saw his neighbor.

“Hey,” Carl nodded at his direction.

Devin forced a smile. “On duty?” he asked, looking at the guy’s cop uniform.

“Yeah. Slow day.” Carl was smoking a cigarette which was almost burnt out. Devin watched as he bit the butt and sent it flying away from his mouth. He grabbed a pack from his back pocket and offered Devin a stick.

He shook his head. “I don’t smoke, but thanks.”

Carl just nodded, frowning against the heat of the sun. He bit at another fresh butt from his pack and lit it. “I love this stuff but I hate touching it.”

Devin just nodded. He could see by the way the man bit on the thing. “I have to go.”

“Be careful. Lotta bad guys hanging around these days. You’re new here. People take advantage of that.”

Devin gave him a short salute, said, “Thanks for the reminder, officer. See you around.”

Carl puffed out some smoke as a reply.

---

Without anything to do, Devin positioned below his window and slowly peered up with his binoculars against his eyes.

He should not be doing this, but then again, he didn’t have a lot do that day.

Now he was able to confirm what the girl across his window was doing.

She was working on breaking the window grills.

He shifted the binoculars and found out that she was successful with at least three bars.

“Amazing,” he thought as he watched her hands work with the end of a spoon, grinding it against the unlucky iron bar.

---

Hope sensed something off so she stopped and looked.

Something flashed from across the room and her eyes narrowed to see clearly. The flashing suddenly disappeared.

Hope frowned.

She didn’t feel right so she stepped back from the window.

Having a neighbor sleeping right across her window was not a good thing after all.

She bent down and snatched her chain into one hand and walked to the wall to talk to Patty.

“Are you hungry? I have some leftovers,” she offered.

“He gave me something today.”

“Bread?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I’ve been in worse conditions, thanks.”

“How’s your chain?”

“He said he’s going to change it. I’ve worked hard on it, Hope.”

She could taste the desperation in Patty’s voice, the hope fading away.

“It’s going to be alright. My bars are on almost done. I just need to be more careful. I stole a knife last night.”

“What?!”

“I need it.”

“He’ll know.”

“He might not. Let’s just pray he finds out after we’re gone.”

“But how do I get out of here?”

“This plank is easy to break. We break it the day we escape. But not now. This frail plank is the least of our problems.”

“How’s the neighbor?”

“Nosy.”

“How’s the barrel case?”

“I don’t know. I did not watch the news.”

Silence reigned between them. They didn’t have a lot to talk about after all. They didn’t have schools or days in the mall as their topics. All they had was their escape plan.

---

Devin sat frowning in front of his computer, deep in thought.

He was pretty sure he saw her pick up a chain. But what was it for? Was she attached to it?

How crazy was her condition that her father would opt to chain her?

What harm could she do?

His curiosity was increasing by the minute the more he thought of his neighbor. He knew something was off somewhere. Hell, the whole scenario was off. He just felt it in his gut.

Thirsty for a good mystery to crack, he was ready for more spying.

---

Hope couldn’t delay her plans so she had to come up with another before her neighbor could ruin everything.

She ate dinner Carl delivered to her room and returned all utensils intact.

He was satisfied and even gave her a hug for being such a nice girl the whole day.

When he was finally gone, she went to her bathroom and took a bath. It was not easy with the chains, but she had already mastered the process. She only had one bar of soap she used as her shampoo and body wash altogether. Sometimes, she didn’t have one and the water had to be enough.

Putting on the only other pair of dress she had (she never had pants because of the chains), she combed her hair with her hands and slowly crept to bed.

Carl would check on her in a few minutes.

And he did just after she covered her body with the old blanket that smelled like draft.

Carl carefully walked up to her and sat down on the bed beside her. Hope tried hard not to shove his hand away as he lifted it up to her face, brushing her hair away from her face as she lay sideways against her pillow.

His calloused hand travelled down and his finger traced her jaw line.

The only thing that was stopping Hope from pulling the knife from under her pillow and stabbing the bastard to death was her fear of being overpowered. Carl was strong and experience taught her strength was not the best way to fight him.

So she endured the overwhelming sense of hate and disgust as he guided his hand down her neck to her clavicle and her bare arm.

Hope almost whimpered as his hand went under the cover and found her tightly closed thighs.

“You are lucky I cannot do it tonight, darling,” he husked, finally moving his hand away from her.

Hope felt a tear escape her eye, rolling down her cheek and finding solace inside her ear.

She did not move until he lifted his weight off the bed and walked away. She did not dare breath until he closed the door.

Knowing she was not getting any sleep tonight, Hope waited for another hour until it was certain that Carl was asleep. She then carefully gathered her chains and walked to the window, careful to avoid the camera at the corner of the room.

And she spent the night spying on her nosy neighbor.

VIII. One Thing in Common

Hope made it sure that her neighbor didn’t get a glimpse of her the following day. He had been spying on her. She may not know it for a fact, but she could feel it. Years of imprisonment had taught her to trust her guts.

She stood by the window, hiding behind the wall, watching him go about his room.

Carl had long been gone.

It would have been the perfect time for her to work on the iron grill, but she had to handle her neighbor first.

He saw him peek through his window across to hers and then at the street.

It was not a normal survey of the street. It was like an obsession on his part, she thought.

He would constantly reappear in front of his window and look out at the street as if he was expecting something.

Hope knew what it was.

He had that look on his face.

Fear.

It was written all over his face. It may be subtle, easily hidden by his features, but it was visible to her. She could almost taste it.

She went back to her winged chair, deep in thought.

She could use his fear against him if she needed to.

But she had to know what it was he feared first.

Fear was their common denominator.

She just had to find out what made her neighbor climb out of bed in the middle of the night and to check his bedroom door and the window.

---

Devin watched the news as he ate his breakfast.

They were still on the barrel case of the famous actress who went missing years ago.

He had to suffer minutes watching the screen flash old photos of the said actress.

He didn’t know her but she somehow perked a feeling of familiarity.

He shrugged it off. Maybe he had seen her in a movie in the past. That was highly possible since she was that famous as the news had said.

Walking back to his room to start working, he wondered why he hadn’t seen her neighbor. She should be working on that grill of hers by now.

Shaking his head, he reminded himself that he had a client waiting for him online. Spying on his crazy neighbor would have to wait until later.

---

Before Carl could come home from work, Hope dropped on the floor to talk to Patty.

“Will you do me a favor?” her friend asked from behind the wall.

“I’ll do what I can. But you know I am chained so I hope you don’t ask me to do anything outrageous as walking down the stairs,” she joked dryly.

“Will you find my mother and tell her I am sorry if you get out of here and I can’t?”

Hope was shaking her head even before Patty finished her sentence. “No. We are going out together. Why are you even thinking you can’t get out of here? We will get out of here, Patty. I promise you that. Then we will make sure that the sick bastard gets what he deserves. We will live close to each other as we promised. We will go back to school, graduate, work and continue our dreams. We had a solid plan. Don’t waver.”

The silence from Patty’s side made Hope uncomfortable. It was not the usual silence they usually had.

“Patty. Did you hear me? I promise you that we are going out of here.”

“But promise me, Hope. Tell my mom I am sorry. Tell her I love her. But don’t tell her of the things we went through. That will break her heart. Just tell her I love her. You will do that, right?”

“No, you will do it. You know why? Because we are getting the hell out of here. You will tell her that in person, in her face.”

Another long silence.

“How are your wounds?” Patty didn’t have to tell her the injuries she suffered the previous day.

“Not as bad as the invisible one.”

Hope just nodded. “Watch out for infection. The last time I had one, I could barely walk.”

“I remember.”

“No alarming redness? Pus?”

“I am physically okay, Hope,” Patty whispered.

“Good. Work on your chains. Don’t let him catch you again.”

“He gave me a new one. I don’t think I can work on it again.”

Hope closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. She stared at the ceiling. “You have to be strong, Patty. When the opportunity presents itself, we are leaving together.”

“How’s the neighbor?” her friend changed the subject.

“I think he’s hiding from something…or someone. I am thinking we can use that to our advantage.”

“You have always been so wise, you know that? I don’t know if I can even escape this hell if you’re not on the other side of the wall.”

Hope heard Patty change position by the sound of her chains against the floor. “We have to survive.”

“My grandfather once told me that.”

Hope just nodded.

“I dreamed of them last night, you know.”

“Your family?”

“Yes. We were in my grandparent’s. They have this small farm outside the city and we used to go there for weeks during breaks. I dreamed of one of my favorite days in that farm. We were outside. The sun was bright but not stingy. It was a cool kind of summer. We decided to eat our lunch at the picnic table outside my grandparent’s house. I heard their laughter. It was so clear that I almost lost myself in that dream, as if I was at that very moment. As if I never left. And my brother was running around with the old dog yapping behind him. I was reading a book as my parents prepared the tables. My grandmother was walking toward us with that big smile of hers, carrying a steaming casserole.” Both of them just sat there in silence for a while, painting a picture of the scene of Patty’s dream. Hope had a face for Patty and she smiled as she saw a younger version of her with a book in a summer day, not thinking of the tragic days ahead of her.

“I didn’t want to wake up. I wished I never woke up.”

Hope could now see the Patty sitting on the floor at the other side of the wall behind her, her face streaming with silent tears, her body full of bruises and whip marks. Her image of a great summer day was suddenly shattered.

“We’ll go back to that farm house, Patty.”

“I am not even sure if they are still alive. I am not sure of anything except that I want this all to end.”

“It will. Just be patient.”

Patty had broken down a couple of times before and Hope had managed to help her through it. One of them had to be strong and if it meant it had to be her, then she would be that pillar.

Everyone had one thing in common: fear. Some fed on them, others live with them. Hope didn’t want anything to do with it and she would do anything to never feel it again.

“I think I need to rest,” Patty shattered the silence.

“Okay. I’ll need to keep watch on our neighbor.”

“But promise me, Hope. Just in case. Just in case things go bad.”

Hope willed herself to nod. “Okay. I promise you. But I don’t want to hang on to that one for a long time. We’ll escape together.”

She didn’t hear Patty answer. Her friend was already dragging her chains somewhere across her own room.

Hope stayed on the floor for a few more minutes as if recharging after a long battle. Finally, she stood up and walked to her window. She passed by the television and ignored it. She didn’t want to see more of her old photos.

---

Devin was surprised when she suddenly appeared in front of her window and stared right at him, her face blank but curious.

“Hey,” he called out, his heart racing. She had startled him. He expected her to step back and disappear or close her window, but she did none of that.

What she did quite surprised him again.

She stepped forward and uttered, “Hey.”

Devin smiled at her, wishing his smile was not scaring her at all. He had not been doing that for years. “Glad you finally decided I am not a monster who lives next door.”

He watched her think for a moment, hesitated, then regained her composure, said, “I have wondered of that, yes.”

That was the longest sentence she had addressed him by far. It excited him. Hundreds of questions were already lined up in his mind. What’s her name? Was she really crazy? Why was she trying to break her windows? Was she being chained? Was she planning to escape her own father? How long had she been like this? He had other questions and it seemed that those questions also awakened some thoughts he never bothered to venture before.

If she was really chained, was that even legal? He was sure it wasn’t. But why would Carl do such a thing? Was his daughter that dangerous? Should he be careful? Why was she suddenly talking to him? Was she planning something? Was she using him?

“You are finally talking to me. I wonder why.”

A part of him hoped she’d shy away and never talk to him again because deep in his gut, he could feel that the woman could bring a lot of complications in his life. He couldn’t have that right now.

“I know you’ve been spying on me.”

Okay, he didn’t expect that. She was looking him straight in the eyes. She looked frail and pale, but her eyes were strong and it held his captive.

“I didn’t know I was. I was merely curious,” he replied.

She tipped her head to the side, studying him. Devin suddenly felt uncomfortable with her scrutiny. He shifted his weight. “Why?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You’ve been silent. You don’t go out. You work on that window every day except today. That’s enough reason for anyone to be curious.”

She didn’t move or bat an eye. “I know you’re in hiding. That doesn’t make me curious.”

Devin felt his adrenaline rush throughout his system. How did she find out?

His question must have been written all over his face because she answered, “I just knew.”

“Why does it tell me you know a lot about hiding?”

He saw her eyes waver for a second. “I am not in hiding.”

“Then you are being hidden.”

It was her time to look surprised and Devin congratulated himself for getting that fact out without asking her. “Your curiosity took you far.”

He nodded. “But not that far. There are still some questions.”

She just nodded. “Will you tell him about the window?”

“Would that bring you trouble?”

She didn’t answer.

“No, I won’t tell your father about your window. Happy?”

“Would be if you keep your word.”

“I don’t break my word.”

She just nodded. “We’ll see.”

“Why did you decide to talk to me?” he asked again.

“My facial muscles need some practice.” He thought he saw a small smile tug at one corner of her mouth before she stepped away, saying, “Next time.”

“’Bye. Next time,” he answered in a whisper.

---

That night, Hope lay on her bed wide awake.

Five minutes ago, she heard Carl enter Patty’s room.

She could hear her whimper, her muffled cry and his rugged breath. The hairs on Hope’s hand stood up. She tried to brush away the picture of Carl doing whatever he was doing with Patty, but they were too vivid to even shut out her mind. She knew everything that was going on in Patty’s room.

It was almost an hour later when she heard Carl walk out next door, his footsteps carrying him to her door. Patty’s muffled cry could still be heard from the other side of the wall though it was fainter now.

Hope closed her eyes, all her other senses now fully alert.

But he didn’t step in. She felt his presence standing by the open door. He closed and locked it after a few minutes.

Hope let out a breath as she listened as Carl’s footsteps carry him back downstairs.

---

Hope knocked against the wall and waited.

She tried again when no answer came.

“Patty,” she called, alarmed.

She knocked again.

“Patty.”

“I’m here,” her friend’s deadpan voice said behind the wall.

Hope sighed in relief.

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Yes. Something different. He was in a good mood after last night.”

Hope shivered at the thought of what her friend went through last night.

“I am not crying. No tears are coming out.”

Hope didn’t know what to say. “You have to be strong, Patty. We’ve been through the same thing last night for years.”

“I never get over them.”

“I know.”

“If I die, will you hold on to your promise?”

“Patty–”

“Hope, please, I need your word.”

“Yes. I’ll find your mom and tell her.”

“Thank you. My full name is Patricia Leigh.”

A tear fell down Hope’s face. “I’ll remember.”

Hope felt that something bad was going to happen soon but she didn’t want to think about it.

IX. Shuttered and Shattered

Devin was deep in thought.

His mind was full of the girl living across his bedroom window.

Their conversation from two days ago was still fresh in his mind.

He could still remember every word that had passed between them.

She sounded sane. She didn’t sound crazy at all.

Maybe she is the manipulative kind, his mind wondered. He had read about schizophrenia and other abnormal conditions of the mind. Those who had them could very well fool people to thinking they were okay and sane.

Two days had passed since their last encounter. They didn’t speak again because she never worked on her window. Sometimes he would hear the same sound that accompanied her movements before. The sound of chains. But he never saw her. She never appeared in front of her window. It was like she was gone.

Is she avoiding me?

The curiosity he had days before only grew because of it.

Maybe she was just buying some time. Or maybe she was just having a “normal” phase until her craziness went back again.

He shook his head.

That was when his phone rang.

He looked at the time.

“Punctual son of a bitch,” he muttered before he picked up the phone.

“Alive and kicking?”

“Alive and kicking,” he confirmed. “How are my papers?”

“Coming.”

“You always say that.”

“That’s what they tell me all the time. Look, I am trying, okay? I want this to be over as much as you do. I need a different assignment. You are the longest I’ve had. How are the neighbors?”

“Weird as always,” he answered, trying to sound dry. He didn’t want the guy to think he should move again. He was getting tired of that.

“I will drop by next week. Need anything?”

“The papers.”

A sigh came from the other end. “Not gonna happen in a week. Will bring you something edible. Stay alive.”

Devin replaced the receiver and walked to his bedroom window. His neighbor closed her blinds. His gaze traveled down to the empty street and he was satisfied.

Good.

Safe for now.

---

Hope woke up in the middle of the night, her ears ringing with Patty’s muffled cry again.

She covered her head with the blanket and tried to shut it out–shut out everything.

But like other nights when Carl would visit Patty, Hope’s senses stayed alert. She watched out for Patty despite the fact that she couldn’t do anything if things went awry. The sounds–any sound–that came from her room was an assurance that her friend was alive. But they were sounds of pain and disgust, very much the same ones Hope would give out if he chose her room.

She wondered why he had not visited her since that night he touched her. Was his sick desires solely focused on Patty like it was a few months ago on Hope? Or was he choosing the second option because he couldn’t get to Hope because of their new neighbor?

Hope heard the heavy, grunting sound coming from Carl’s throat from the other room. She heard Patty’s whimper.

She closed her eyes.

When will he stop?

She and Patty knew he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.

Patty’s bed creaked and a big thudding sound followed. Something–or someone–fell on the floor. The sound came so loud that Hope thought it could have reached next door.

Silence followed.

Complete, utter silence lingered that it crept up Hope’s bones, causing the hairs on her arms and nape to stand up. Slowly, she sat up, waiting for another sound, holding her breath.

Come on, Patty…any sound.

And then it came. A sharp intake of breath and it was Patty’s. She sounded like she finally came out from the bottom of the ocean, gasping for breath.

Hope let out her own in relief. She closed her eyes and dropped back in bed.

---

Devin woke up to the sound.

It was not followed by another, but he was a light sleeper ever since his life turned upside down.

He climbed out of bed and walked to the window. The girl’s room was stark black. No movements.

He shrugged. It might have been just a cat.

He went back to bed, lightly touching the .45 Caliber under his pillow.

He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

---

Hope knocked on the wall, not calling out Patty’s name.

She had not heard from her for three days now.

It was not something new. Patty rarely talked to her whenever Carl would visit her at night.

Hope decided she had couldn’t work on her window today.

Carl didn’t have work.

He said so when he delivered her breakfast that morning.

She turned on the television. She watched for almost an hour without catching any news about the barrel case.

Her bedroom door opened and Carl walked in. She didn’t move an inch.

He walked to the table and grabbed the remote. He turned off the television. She didn’t say a thing.

“Come downstairs for some air, Hope,” Carl’s voice said behind her.

She obliged by standing up and letting him come near her. He led her to her bed and pushed her to sit down. He knelt down on the floor and unlocked the clasp around her ankle. “What are we going to do?”

He stood up and pulled her by the hand. “You are doing some cleaning.”

---

Devin frowned.

He just saw Carl leading the girl out of her room.

So he lets her out, he thought.

He put down his binoculars and waited.

---

A whimper almost escaped Hope’s throat when she saw what Carl had for her.

There, laid out in his kitchen sink were different objects stained with blood and lubricating gel.

Hope was very familiar with them. She had seen them multiple times, they had touched her body countless of times. There were different kinds anyone could buy in sex stores online.

But this was the first time Hope had to clean them after they had been used on someone else. They didn’t mortify her as the presence of the blood did.

She wanted to throw up but she swallowed hard as she turned on the faucet, her eyes almost brimming with tears. Her hands were shaking.

“Clean them up good,” Carl ordered from the living room. He turned on the news and watched in silence as Hope struggled with the blood-stained toys. One or two items were not even toys. One or two of them were probably from his garage.

A whimper escaped Hope’s throat as she washed them and quickly covered the sound with the clearing of her throat.

She jumped when Carl’s phone rang and he picked it up. She listened to his words. “I handed it over. What else do you want? No, no, no. Not doing that. I am not working today. Tomorrow, I’ll follow up tomorrow.” The call ended and he added, “Calling me at home, unbelievable.”

He had friends from work who would call him often and it was not new to Hope. Sometimes, his phone would ring in the middle of the night and she would wake up to the sound of the ringing and Carl’s muffled angry voice from downstairs in his room.

She almost jumped again when she heard his voice, louder this time, say, “You okay there?”

“Yeah,” she croaked.

“Clean them good, you hear?”

This time she just nodded. She ignored the red liquid that was going down the drain. She tried to shut out any picture of Patty when he used these objects on her.

Memories started to come back to Hope and fear followed. What if he came to her next? Could she stay quiet then? Could she still act like she did the first time? The second time? The succeeding times that followed? It had been months since she saw these things. She didn’t know if she could handle them again.

It took her almost half an hour to completely clean the toys and the iron objects. She grabbed a towel hanging by the fridge and dried them with shaking hands. She polished the iron-made items to perfection, the traces of blood completely gone.

It was only after she had set them aside did she had the urge to throw up again.

“I’m done,” she said quickly, eager to go back upstairs.

Carl jumped to his feet and walked to her. He inspected her work and smiled in approval. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

Hope climbed the stairs twice as fast as she normally would and let Carl replace the iron clasp around her ankle.

“You look paler than usual. You should eat more,” he said, his dark eyes studying her.

She just nodded, swallowing hard.

He walked out without a word. Hope listened and when she was sure he was out of earshot, she ran to her bathroom and threw up until there was nothing left in her stomach. Even until then, her throat kept on pushing acid out.

Her eyes were wet with tears when she finally straightened. She cleaned up the mess and blew her nose. She walked back to bed, her knees weak.

She tried knocking on the wall again. “Patty,” she whispered brokenly.

No answer came. Patty had shut her out. Patty was shattered.

Hope would give her time. They both needed it.

---

Devin watched the girl walk to the window, her face white.

“You okay?” he asked. He didn’t bother hiding. If she wanted to talk, she would. If she didn’t, no big loss.

For a moment, she just looked at him as if he was not there. And then she blinked and saw him. And then she nodded.

He frowned. “You look like you’re sick.” He set aside his binoculars and sat on the open space of his window. “I saw you walk out of your room earlier.”

Again, she just nodded.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Again, just a nod. “I need to do something,” she said in a low voice. There was something in her voice ever since she started to talk to him that gave Devin a feeling that he was talking to a young woman who was older at the same time. Her voice sounded young, but it was edged with something that signified unpleasant experience. He couldn’t point it out.

She was gone even before he could give a reply.

---

Hope’s eyes opened wide and her heart started beating fast.

It was in the middle of the night and she could hear his footsteps.

It was coming to her room, not Patty’s.

She tried to shut out the fear.

She prepared herself.

The door opened and the creaking sound almost made her jump out of bed and run. But how could she? She had nowhere else to go. She was chained and he was powerful.

His heavy footsteps came nearer her bed. The air she breathed was now mixed with his smell of cigarette and sweat.

“You’re awake,” he said above her. “Get up.”

Hope blinked. Get up? She didn’t expect that. She expected him to pull her covers and do whatever he intended to do with her.

“I said, get the fuck up,” he repeated in his low, powerful voice. The smell of cigarette was stronger as he leaned down to pull her out of the bed. She complied and let him work on her clasp.

Hope panicked. This never happened before. He never did this before in his nightly visits.

Should she grab her knife and stab him in the head?

But before she could decide on that, he was on his feet and he was dragging her out of her room.

He did not pull her toward the stairs, but to the door next to hers.

Hope’s heart hammered harder against her chest as she looked at Carl with wide, questioning eyes.

He looked at her, his eyes blank, almost bored. “Stay still,” he ordered. In his hand, he held a bunch of keys and he picked one and worked on Patty’s door.

Hope held her breath. She wanted to ask him what was happening. What was he planning?

She could bolt and run. Her feet were free. He was busy now. But she couldn’t move.

When the lock finally gave in, Carl looked at Hope and one corner of his lips lifted in a smile. He pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, but Hope couldn’t look. Her gaze wouldn’t leave Carl’s dark eyes.

“We have some more cleaning up to do, Hope.” His voice was low, almost excited.

And that was when the horror of his words finally dawned on her.

X. Digging Deep

The ringing in her ears got stronger.

Her knees gave up on her even before she had a good look of what lay inside that room.

The door banged against the adjacent wall, creaked and stopped.

Hope was on the floor, the tears falling down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them anymore.

A whimper escaped her lips as they trembled.

“Shut up, Hope.”

Another whimper escaped as she bit down on her lower lip.

“What have you done?” she demanded, looking at Patty’s body on the floor. She was sprawled on the floor, facing away from the door. One arm was above her head, the other at her back, palm upward.

“She did it to herself, the bitch,” Carl’s voice said above Hope. “Get the fuck up, Hope.”

But Hope was not hearing him. The ringing in her ears prevailed. Her eyes were fixed on the pool of blood around Patty’s hand.

“Don’t!” she cried out when Carl switched the lights. He just looked down at her with a sneer.

Hope’s eyes widened. The light clothed Patty’s lifeless body now, showing every mark on her skin. Her red hair was almost black.

“Get the fuck up, Hope,” Carl repeated, leaning down to grab her by the arm. He pulled her with him and she stumbled against the frame of the door. “We have to start cleaning.”

She shook her head, looking away from the body.

Carl grabbed her chin, his fingers digging against her cheek. “You can’t say no, Hope. You have to help.”

“No,” she shook her head against his hand.

His other hand grabbed her hair, pulling her away from the safety of the doorframe. He dragged her to where Patty lay swimming in her own blood. Carl turned her face down, forcing her to look. “This is you if you don’t listen to me. Compose yourself and let’s start cleaning,” he rasped, his cigarette-tinged breath brushing against her face. He let go of her face none to gently and sent her down to the body on the floor.

Hope struggled to get away, smearing her arms and knees with Patty’s blood. She wanted to cry out for help. But no voice came out of her throat, her cry a silent scream as she desperately tried to scramble away from the body and the blood. She wiped the blood away from her arms as if they were going to creep right through her pores and into her own system.

Carl rushed toward her and pulled her right back on her wobbling legs. He bunched his hand in her hair and forced her to look at him.

“Calm the fuck down. Now. Or you’re dead.”

She nodded, her nose flaring in her struggle to breath normally.

“Good. Now help me.” He let her go, turned and walked to Patty’s body on the floor.

He circled around it with a frown. Then he shook his head.

“What have you done, Patty?” he asked before he kicked the body until Patty was on her back.

Hope looked away. She didn’t want to see her friend’s face. She didn’t think she could stomach it.

“Look at her, Hope. She looks like she finally had a good night’s sleep.”

Despite herself, Hope’s eyes flickered to Patty’s face and she caught her breath.

Patty! She silently cried as another wave of tears streamed down her face.

Patty’s face was as white as paper, her lips dark. Her nose was straight and short, with obvious signs of scars and bleeding. Her eyes, thank God, were closed. One of the lids was dark, bruised.

Hope whimpered.

Patty…

“Stupid girl cut her wrist,” Carl spat out as he bent down to pick up a shattered piece of glass.

Hope’s eyes followed it. Then she looked at the broken window across the room. What have you done, Patty?

Carl now had his hands on his hips. He was looking down at Patty’s body like he was solving a difficult puzzle. He looked like he would a police in a crime scene.

By then, Hope was numb. Gone was the weakness in her legs, gone was the shaking and gone wear the tears. She stood there, in the middle of the room with arms and knees and dress smeared with her friend’s blood.

She couldn’t cry for her now in grief.

Carl would wonder why.

“You never got to know her,” Carl said without looking at Hope. “It’s a shame. But, oh well, she chose this for herself. Come here, Hope and help me.” He went to one corner of the room and grabbed a large, brown suitcase. He prepared before he woke her up.

Son of a bitch.

He wheeled the suitcase to Patty’s small frame on the floor.

“Open it,” he ordered. “Hope,” he called out in warning when she didn’t move.

Without feeling her feet and legs, Hope walked to the suitcase and opened it. Her hands were surprisingly still as she dragged the zipper around.

“Help me,” Carl uttered, his eyes glinting like a devil as he watched Hope look at him with desperation. “Grab the legs and help me, Hope.”

Hope knew he could very well do it on his own. And she knew why he was doing this with her. He wanted to show her his power; that he had control over everything–over her.

She wanted it over soon so she followed his words. Patty didn’t feel cold, but the warmth was leaving her body. She tried to ignore the deep cuts scattered around Patty’s skin, the sign of her own iron cuffs in her left ankle, the bruises. Hope’s hands were itching to let go as they heaved the body into the suitcase and she dropped Patty the moment it was done. She stepped back and looked out the broken window of Patty’s room. The only sound was Carl’s heavy breathing as he worked with the suitcase.

A sudden tingle shot through Hope’s spine. It was shocking after being numb for a time. She almost shivered as she heard him zip the suitcase.

“Let’s go, Hope. And don’t you dare do something stupid,” he told her, pulling the handle of the suitcase. He grabbed her arm and shoved her to the doorway. “Lead the way. But remember, I have a gun.”

Yes, he did. He was pointing it directly at her spine.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Carl told her to stop. He made her hold the handle of the suitcase, exchanging places with her. Without effort, he lifted the suitcase by the bottom and they started to descend down the stairs.

The next thing Hope knew, she was outside. The wind was cold that night. It was quiet.

She could bolt and run, but she knew she didn’t have the energy to do that before Carl could shoot her dead. They were at the back of the house. She had never been here. The small lawn was trimmed, the potted flowers perfectly aligned at one side.

Hope glanced around. All windows next door were dark.

People were asleep.

And Patty was in a suitcase.

Carl ordered her to clear the ground of the potted flowers, reminding her to be careful or he’d break her neck. She did as he ordered and found herself tired at once. He told her to stand aside as he started digging with a shovel.

Again, Hope thought of running. Her eyes travelled to the gun at the back of his back pocket. Was he a good shot? Would he be able to run after her after digging a deep hole on the ground?

But where would she go? She didn’t know the neighborhood. He could easily shoot her because he was a cop and cops were supposed to be good with guns.

Plus, her legs were giving up on her. She could barely move them. Putting a good distance between her and the suitcase, Hope stood and watched as Carl dug further down the ground.

He climbed right back with a contented look on his face. He dragged the suitcase and dropped it in the freshly dug hole. Then he grabbed his gun and pointed it at Hope. “Finish the job.”

She took the shovel he handed her and started scooping the dirt back into the hole.

Hope was breathless by the time she was done replacing the potted flowers back to their original place. No one would think the ground had been touched, not if they didn’t look closely. It looked normal, like it was just a fresh garden mound.

“Rest in peace, Patty,” Carl uttered without a tinge of sadness in his voice. He turned to Hope and ordered, “Back inside. There’s more work for ya up there.”

He let her clean the blood. He let her strip the dirty sheets off the bed. He let her dump all bloody cloth in a black bag he planned to dispose himself the next day. And he led her back to her room like nothing happened, like they just shared a simple dinner downstairs.

The moment he was gone, the moment she could no longer hear his footsteps, Hope ran to her bathroom, stumbling on her chains, and threw up. She turned on the shower and let the water drench her dress. She threw up some more when red-tinged liquid ran down her legs to the tiled floor and down the drain.

Tears returned and Hope fell down the tiled floor, muffling her grief with her hands. When she saw the dirt and the blood on her arm, she scratched at them until her skin was red. She hastily removed her dress and threw it across the bathroom wall where it smacked and slid down the floor.

Hope shook as a rainfall of water spat down against her skin. She scrubbed and scrubbed and cried. She forced her mind to erase any memory of Patty’s lifeless face. She forced the image she had in her mind before she met her friend back in her mind. She’d remember Patty that way. She’d remember a redhead sitting around the picnic table outside a farmhouse, sunlight washing over her face with radiance.

---

Devin saw the girl walking around her room, appearing in and out of view.

She seemed lost, almost lifeless.

Once, her eyes met his, but she just stood there, looking at him like he wasn’t there.

And he never saw her again.

What happened now?

He walked to his table grabbed the phone.

“What happened?” the man from the other line answered instantly.

“Relax. Nothing happened. But I need a favor.”

“What?”

“Can you dig in on someone for me?”

“What the hell is this about this time?”

“Just something I am curious about. Someone I am curious about.”

“Who?”

“Carl…” he closed his eyes, picturing Carl’s uniform standing before him as he smoked. “Briggs. Carl Briggs.”

“Who’s he?”

“Just a cop neighbor. Can you look him up for me? Just want to make sure everything’s well-covered here.”

“Will try to look him up from the research stuff we have here before you moved in. I am sure the guys have a file of all your neighbors.”

“Bring it with you when you come visit.”

“Anything else?”

Devin thought for a moment. “I want to know more about his daughter. He has one living with him.”

“Sure. I’ll try to dig deeper. He making you uncomfortable?”

“No, not really. Just as I said. I want things well-covered.”

“Paranoid bastard.”

“And so are you.”

The line went dead before he could say goodbye. Devin didn’t mind.

He knew the guy would ask a lot of questions, but he didn’t care. He was almost desperate to know more about his neighbors. He wanted to be certain he was doing the right thing with the girl across his room.

He went to stand right in front of his window. The girl had dropped the blinds. She was not obviously working on the grills today. He saw Carl below, outside in his porch, drinking beer and smoking as he watched the street.

Stepping away, Devin opened the book he was reading about Spain to ebb the excitement he felt.

For the first time, he was looking forward to Burton Grant’s visit.

XI. Visitor

Hope did not get breakfast that day.

She was okay with it.

She would rather not see Carl for weeks. She could die in hunger.

Maybe she would and it wouldn’t even matter because her mother was now one of the people who believed she was dead.

The news was flashing Georgina Madden’s crying face after she finally admitted that her daughter might be dead.

At first, Hope was angry. How could they say when there was barely any proof that she was dead? Was it the necklace? Surely they could pull out something from that barrel, bones or goo that could point out a different DNA.

But after a few moments, the anger subsided along with the remaining hope that she had. Patty was gone. Her mother thought she was dead. She didn’t feel alive. She could very well be dead.

Her heart was pumping blood, beating gently against her chest, but she was lifeless. It seemed that her soul left her body that night she buried Patty.

Promise me, Hope…

Patty’s desperate, sad voice rang softly at the back of her mind.

She promised Patty she’d find her mother.

Could she do that?

Her eyes flew to the window. She wasn’t even sure if she could climb out of it alone once the grills were gone.

---

Devin tried to find out more from his neighbor.

Burton was not due to visit him until next week.

He was feeling restless. He had the need to find out more.

And so he climbed down his stairs, walked out of his front door and walked to where Carl was parking his police car.

“Hey!” the man greeted, climbing out and lighting a cigarette.

“Hey.”

“Need anything?” Carl puffed out smoke.

“Nah, just want to stretch out these legs,” he said, kicking one leg after another. “How’s it going for you?”

Carl frowned at him through the cloud of smoke. “Beat from work. Did a lot of paperwork. Not a lot of crime around here so there’s just that. Settled down yet or getting homesick?”

“Both,” Devin answered, looking around nonchalantly. “How’s your daughter?”

Maybe he should not have asked that. Carl’s face darkened for a moment before he asked, “Why you asking?” in answer.

Devin shrugged and gave off a chuckle. “I don’t know what else to ask. We never really exchanged a lot of things the last time we talked like this. I remembered you told me about your daughter.”

Carl nodded slowly, dragging another lungful of air through his cigarette until it finally reached the filter. He bit on the butt and sent it flying away. “Never been better. She’s having some good days, then some bad. Got used to it.”

Devin just nodded.

“Would you like to come inside and join me for a couple of beers?”

Without warning, Devin’s heart started to race. Should he? It was very tempting.

And Devin gave in to the temptation by nodding his head. “Sure. It’s okay?”

“Why not? After my wife died and my daughter got sick, I never had anyone but a couple of busy police friends to hang out with. You’re a good change.”

Devin grinned and followed him to his porch.

Inviting his neighbor into his house didn’t justify his innocence at all, Devin thought. For all he knew, the guy was playing it cool so he would not start suspecting.

He had watched and read about this sort of strategy, even witnessed a few of them in the past. That was why he had to be extra careful. If Carl was hiding something dirty up his sleeve, then his house might just be his playground. Devin had to tread slowly, with a survival plan at hand if things went awry.

Carl opened his door and walked in, holding the door open for Devin to follow.

Devin’s eyes went directly to the most important thing: the doors. He established all possible escape routes if things got physical. There was a backdoor at the other end of the house. The windows were barred as they were upstairs. The room was dark, almost gloomy despite the brightness of the day. There was a couch facing the television at one corner, a small coffee table in the center, an orderly kitchen and a dining table at the other half of the room. A stairway was just a few feet away from the door and Devin had the urge to go up and look through all the rooms upstairs.

She was just above, he thought.

“She uses the second floor,” Carl’s voice explained when he noticed Devin’s gaze. “That’s my room,” he pointed. Devin’s gaze followed and he saw the door right beside the landing of the stairway.

Devin nodded his head but did not ask the question that was on his mind: Are you locking up your daughter upstairs?

“I have a nice garden at the back. We can lounge there,” Carl invited. Devin followed him to the kitchen where he opened the fridge and took out a few cans of beer. “Come on out. It’s drafty inside.”

Devin did not hesitate. Outside might be a bit better.

The screen door swung loudly as Carl walked out.

Devin was surprised to see that the garden did in fact look decent. There were fresh potted flowers arranged perfectly in one corner.

“They’re new,” Carl said with pride. “Bought them from a fair.”

He led Devin to three chairs leaning against the wall.

Devin helped him by carrying the two chairs to more grassy ground. Once settled, they both sat in silence, looking at the trees and the plants, the house silent behind them. “You like gardening?”

“Yeah. Takes off a lot of stress,” Carl answered, popping a can and passing it to Devin. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Oh, online jobs, mostly. Nothing specific. Anything I could get my hands on.”

Carl turned his head as he opened his own can. “You look like someone who is well-educated. You can easily find an actual job around here.”

“I am planning to. Just need to save a little more extra,” Devin lied.

“Just tell me if you need help. I know a few people.”

“Thanks,” he answered before gulping his beer. “So this is all you do? Work and gardening?”

Carl slowly nodded. “Yes, you can say that. But there are other things I love to do like taking care of my daughter.”

Somehow, the way he said it made the hairs at Devin’s nape stand up, so he nodded, adding, “Must be tough.”

“Can be thrilling, too. It took me years to keep her settled after everything finally crumbled down for her. She used to be hard, but I think I was finally able to know how she works. She’s manageable now.”

“She doesn’t go out much?”

Carl shook his head. “She doesn’t like the outdoors. The meds make her eyes sensitive to the light. She lost a lot when her condition controlled her.”

“There are institutions for her, you know.”

“Tried that. Didn’t work.”

Bullshit, Devin’s mind cried.

“I just worry that she doesn’t get enough social life.”

“She doesn’t have any friends?”

“She might have had one, but I don’t know. The friend went away and she just got worse.”

Silence reigned between them for some time.

“How about you? No family?”

“Me?” Devin asked. “No, no family,” he lied.

---

Hope knew Carl had a guest downstairs. She could hear him talking, his voice muffled. But then they disappeared.

They probably went outside to the garden where Patty was buried.

Sick son of a bitch, she whispered in her head.

She did not dare move from her winged chair. One wrong noise and she’d be in trouble.

---

Devin finally got the courage to ask Carl where the bathroom was after a few more bottles.

Carl’s eyes were already drooping sleepily.

“It’s inside. You can easily find it,” the man slurred.

Being a strong drinker, Devin stood up and steadily went inside the house.

His heart started to hammer again.

This could be his chance to roam around the house.

But Carl might notice and follow.

He knew the bathroom was right next to Carl’s bedroom door.

He held on to the knob but did not turn it. His eyes went to the stairway.

He craned his neck to check the backdoor. It was still closed. He couldn’t see Carl, but there was no sign that the man had left his seat.

With purposeful and quiet strides, Devin climbed the stairs.

He reached the top and found two bedroom doors. The first one smelled of chlorine. He tried the knob. It was locked. Then he walked to the next door. It smelled drafty. He knew what room it hid behind the door.

He hesitated, made up his mind, and tried the knob.

Again, it was locked.

But he heard that same sound associated to his bedroom neighbor. The chains.

---

Hope knew it wasn’t Carl.

He would never dare go upstairs when he had any visitors.

She knew, deep in her gut, it was the visitor.

But who?

She cringed when her foot involuntarily moved, causing the chains to make their sound.

She stopped her breath.

Her mind was already racing to the different scenarios of what could happen if the visitor found out about her. Would the visitor call for help? Would the visitor end up like her? But then, would the visitor try to even wonder if someone was inside?

---

Should he speak up? Should he let her know he was at the other side? But what for?

Despite the temptation, Devin stepped back and returned downstairs.

Just as when he was opening the bathroom door, Carl’s voice spoke behind him.

“Where have you been?”

His heart almost leapt out of his chest but he had to think fast.

He closed the door and faced the man.

“I was just going out the door,” he explained. “Let’s go back out. You’re right. It is drafty in here.”

Carl was looking at him suspiciously and he almost bolted out the door. But he had to keep calm. He might just get in trouble for being too nosy.

---

Hope knew the moment the visitor was gone.

Carl went to her room and congratulated her for behaving.

He gave her dinner which she ate despite her desire to die in hunger.

This thoughts of dying would eventually go away and survival would kick right back.

It was always the case.

She climbed out of bed when she was certain Carl would not pay her a visit tonight. He smelled of alcohol and smoke earlier and he was probably deep in sleep downstairs.

She went to the window and looked out into the night sky.

She checked the grills and a sudden urge to work on them again rushed through her mind.

She’d start again tomorrow.

Her gaze went back to the starless sky.Thoughts of Patty returned and she closed her eyes, a drop of tear falling out from one.

“Hey,” a whisper from the window across hers almost made her jump.

She did not answer the man.

“I was outside your door earlier, you know.”

Her shock must have registered on her face.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him.”

“You shouldn’t. We’ll be in trouble. You and I,” she said as warning. She couldn’t help it. One death was enough. “You should stop this. Stop spying on me or him. Stop it.”

There was desperation in her voice, she knew that. “But if you are in trouble, I want to help. I don’t think this is right.”

“Stop this. I don’t need your help. I can’t have another–” she stopped herself. She almost blurted out about Patty.

The guy was frowning, his face shadowed by the night.

“I am serious. Stop whatever you are doing and let us live in peace,” she rushed on before she stepped back to drop the blinds.

XII. Toys

At this point, Devin was certain without any doubt that his neighbor was in trouble.

He didn’t have to wait for Burton to come with a suitcase of dirt about Carl, if there were any, because he was sure that he would still feel the same even if Burton’s search would end up empty.

Whatever Carl’s relationship was with his allegedly crazy daughter, Devin strongly believed that was not it.

The girl did not appear in front of her window the next day, or the day after that.

Devin never saw Carl face to face, but he had been watching the guy more closely.

He knew his routine when he was on duty.

The guy would be out of the house early, a cloud of smoke along his trail.

He would leave with his patrol car.

And the house would be quiet.

Devin had imagined himself barging into the house countless times whenever Carl was gone.

But knowing the guy was a cop, there would surely be some sort of security system.

He couldn’t concentrate on the little work he got online. Not that he really needed the money desperately. That was quite taken care of somehow.

For two days, all Devin did was watch out for his neighbor, knowing a great danger was just lurking around the corner.

---

Hope got a visit from Carl that evening.

This was what she had feared the most.

Patty was gone and she was on her own. She was his only option.

His eyes were dark and glinting with desire when he bent over her in the dark.

Hope wanted to scream.

She desperately wanted him to just slit her throat with the knife he held in his hand to keep her in place.

But just like all nights in the past ten years, she didn’t move.

She shivered when his hands started to caress her leg.

Her eyes begged him to get it over with fast.

Faster was better.

But she knew he wouldn’t do that.

He couldn’t do that.

He would always fail and that was the worst part.

Carl would always fail and he would do other things to punish his subject, and this time it was her.

She wanted to remind him that their neighbor was just across her window. He might hear. He might discover the dark and evil things in his house.

But he was far from reason and she knew that by the dark, shadowed look on his face.

He was lost in his own fantasies as he continued to fondle and caress.

Hope swallowed her whimpers. If she had any dinner that night, she would have already thrown up which happened quite often in the past.

Her stomach was empty that night though and all she felt was the acid rising up her throat as Carl played with her, probably fantasizing he was teasing her.

And then she felt him get restless and she knew what would happen next.

He was getting impatient.

Carl growled above her, his cigarette breath heavy above her face.

Hope closed her eyes and prayed the pain would not be strong.

Carl pushed himself away from her, cursing under his breath.

He never went naked. Never.

It was no use to him.

But what he lacked as a man, he compensated with his toys.

“You are never too good, bitch, never too good,” he rasped out at her, kneeling beside her and pulling her chain to spread her legs apart.

Hope had heard him say that countless of times. It was like he was trying to give her a lame excuse why he couldn’t claim her like a man could. But Hope knew better.

He was like a child with the desires of a grown man but for some reasons, he couldn’t do it.

He showed her the handcuffs. “Your hands.” She obliged and raised her arms above her head. He handcuffed her to the railings of the bed above her head.

“You are never too good,” he repeated as he covered her mouth and proceeded with his punishment.

---

Hope could barely walk the next morning. There were tiny cuts in her arms and thighs and she almost cried out in pain when she tried to take a bath after Carl went out the house for work.

Once again, she remembered Patty.

And she remembered last night.

It had been months since Carl went to her bed.

And maybe she had forgotten the horrors that led Patty to do what she did.

And now that he reminded her last night of the devil that he was, she couldn’t blame her friend for choosing the easier path.

She could do that too.

She still had the knife.

It would be too easy.

The pain may not be worse than what she had been through last night and today.

But Hope knew she could never do that.

She had long made up her mind that she would have her escape and her revenge.

She’d kill Carl if she had to.

But to do that, she had to be careful.

---

Devin saw her that morning.

“Hey,” he called out.

She stopped her task on the window grill and looked at him blankly.

He frowned when he saw the dark circle around one eye. “What happened to your eye?”

“Fell down the bed,” she answered. “I told you to stay out of our lives. You better do that for your own good.”

“Hey, come on, don’t go,” he said hurriedly when she started to back away.

He knew Carl was not around. His car was not outside and he had watched him drive away hours ago.

“Just mind your own business. Can’t you do that?” the girls asked.

“No, not really. I don’t have a lot of business.”

He saw curiosity flash across her eyes but it was gone in an instant. If only he could do that same, get curious and then forget about it.

“Look, I know you think I am being too nosy, but I just want you to know I am here in case you need help.” He looked her in the eyes. She looked physically tired and frail, but her eyes were strong and they stared back at him with defiance. “I just want you to know that I think you are not crazy.”

The shock came fast and gone faster, but Devin saw it.

“Just know I am here, watching. I don’t have a lot of things to do, anyway. But you know what I mean. I can’t do a lot to help with whatever you are not telling me, but I will try. I know some people.”

She seemed frozen in her spot as she just looked at him without giving any hint of what she was thinking.

“I don’t think you told me your name.”

That was a mistake and he realized that when she suddenly backed away and disappeared.

Devin sighed. He was not sure when he’d see her again, but he would surely think of some careful words to say to her the next time.

---

Hope was confused.

Someone had offered her help.

Someone was willing to help her.

But doubt clothed the little hope she had. Carl knew a lot of people. He was a cop and he could very well do anything he wanted, cover anything he desired to stay hidden, just like Patty.

And he had talked to that guy, the one who offered his help.

They had drinks in the backyard and who knew what they discussed?

For all she knew, this was Carl’s game plan. For all she knew, the guy was in on this.

She watched the news that night just before Carl came home from work.

There was a quick update on Hope Madden’s case. Her mother held a funeral for her. A lot of people came to watch an empty casket with her supposed necklace inside along with some of her personal belongings her mother kept when she went missing.

The world had already said goodbye to Hope Madden.

---

Carl did not come home as expected.

She started to fantasize that he was met an accident along the road and hopefully, a ten wheeler crushed his skull open and he would never walk the earth again.

Hope’s stomach started to grumble.

She ignored it and went to the bathroom to wash. She had to erase all remaining traces of Carl’s sick activity last night. She knew she washed herself clean that morning, but she couldn’t help it. She could still feel his hands and the metals and rubbers deep in her skin. Her skin was flush red when she came out the bathroom holding her chain.

This would have been a perfect time to escape if her windows could only allow it. It was the only spot, along with the wall she and Patty used to talk through, that was not covered with the camera at the corner of the room.

She knew that when Carl once carelessly bragged about how he could see here anywhere and anytime through the monitor of his computer, showing her a live footage of her room.

But it is not the time yet, Hope thought. The window was not ready.

She went to the wall beside her bed and sat on the floor. She faced the metal hook where the last of her chain was connected to. This was her first project. The screw that held the base of the hook on the wall had rusted through the years. The iron clasp around her ankle was impossible to break because it was well-used. The hook against the wall was not, though and it was Hope’s–and Patty’s–secret.

Hope reached under her bed and felt for the spoon. She found it and held it by the head. Using the end of the handle, she worked with the screws, counting ten seconds for each one. There were four. She managed to take them out within a minute or so and she congratulated herself. She pulled at the chain and the iron base detached from the wooden wall.

Satisfied, Hope replaced it against the wall and returned the screws to their respective places, making sure that they were loose enough for her escape plan.

She might encounter a problem with the long chain when she made her escape, but it was a problem she would gladly take with her.

When Carl did not return an hour later, Hope did a few pushups to wear herself out. She needed to sleep and she had to do it fast before he came home.

But before she could close her eyes half an hour later, she heard Carl’s car from downstairs.

So he got home safely , she thought. She wondered where he’d been.

She pretended to sleep, hoping he’d not be returning to her room tonight.

And then she heard the footsteps.

Not just one, but two pairs of footsteps.

Hope’s senses became alert as she slowly sat up in bed, listening.

“Another word and you’re dead,” Carl’s muffled voice said outside.

Her heart began to hammer.

No, please, she prayed with eyes closed, clutching on her bed covers as she listened.

She heard a whimper and then a slap.

“One more sound and you’re dead,” Carl hissed.

Hope heard Patty’s door creak open. Her hands loosened on the sheet, all hope gone.

She heard the chains and a squeak on the bed.

She heard the familiar sound of a packing tape being pulled and torn through the wooden wall behind her.

Another whimper.

Another slap.

“Be a good girl, Sammy. Or I’ll kill your mom and dad. You don’t want that, do you? Yes, of course you don’t. Now shut the fuck up.”

Hope lost sense of everything as dread washed over her.

She listened as Carl’s footsteps walked around Patty’s old room. And then he stopped. The door opened and closed.

The whimper came again, but this time it was more restrained.

Carl just brought in a new toy.

A tear fell down Hope’s eye as she listened to the silent cry of the little girl.

XIII. Desperate Measures

Carl came in with a plate of bread and scrambled eggs.

“Be a good girl today, Hope,” he warned before he left. “Remember,” he pointed at the camera at the corner of the room, “I am always watching.”

He was already wearing his cop uniform and Hope waited until his car pulled out of the driveway and sped away before she pushed herself away from her wing chair and padded toward the wall.

She knocked. “Hey,” she called out.

No answer came, but she heard a whimper.

“Hey, can you hear me?” She waited. No answer. “It’s okay. I am a friend. I am like you. He also took me away.”

This time, Hope waited longer.

Then, after almost three minutes, she heard the sound of chains being dragged and a foot padded nearer to the wall.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” the small voice of the girl answered.

“I am Hope. What’s your name?”

“Samantha. Are you going to get me out of here? Please, help me. I am scared.”

The girl didn’t have to say that out loud. Hope could feel her fear.

“I will try, but you have to be patient. I am also a prisoner here, but I can help you get out. Do you understand? Just don’t tell him that you talk to me. It is important that he doesn’t know.”

“Why?”

Hope closed her eyes for a moment. “How old are you, Samantha?”

“Ten.”

It was a great effort to contain the horror that she felt. This girl was five years younger than her when she was abducted. Carl was getting sicker by the day.

“You’re ten, but you can act like a grown up, right? Grown-ups keep their promises at moments like this because it is very important. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“And if he tries to do something to you, even if you don’t like it at all, don’t talk, okay? Just know that it will be over soon. But you have to be quiet or he will not like it. Can you understand me?”

“I am afraid.”

“It is okay to be afraid. Just be strong. I will find a way to get us out of here.”

“How? You’re bound too?”

“Yes, but I found a way out of it. Just don’t tell him we’re talking, okay?”

“Okay.”

---

Later that afternoon, Hope was almost ready to beat herself up for not thinking straight.

She talked to Samantha.

And she was just a child.

What if she talked to Carl?

What if the girl would tell Carl everything?

And if she didn’t, how would Hope help her escape?

Her chains were surely new.

And a child could not work on those screws unless she taught her.

Hope had to find another way.

As she paced around her room, her desperation grew by the second.

She couldn’t just wait for the day that Samantha would be too weak to tell Carl everything. Or the day that she’d end up like Patty.

---

Devin watched as the girl walked around her room, thinking.

What was she thinking about?

Was she worried?

“Hey!” he called, not bothering to lower his voice. Carl was not home and it was only one of those moments he thought it was safe to talk to her.

She turned to face him and was about to walk away when he held up both hands. “Hey, look, I am not going to ask for your name again. I just want to talk.”

“I told you to stay out of our lives.”

“You don’t trust me.” It was not a question. It was a fact he saw in her eyes.

She did not answer.

“I am trying to investigate your dad, if he is really your dad, and I will find out the truth anytime soon. I have a friend who is very good at digging stuff.”

The fear in her eyes was apparent and she almost ran to the window. “No! You can’t do that.” Her voice shook as she said that and he almost called Burton to stop digging.

“I just want to help.”

“He works with the police. You can’t trust anyone,” she told him.

He was surprised with that. He was not expecting to hear that from her. “Then tell me.”

He almost heard a scoff. “If I did, you’d only end up believing I am mad. Or you’d only do something stupid that would get me in the wrong places.”

“Try me. I’ve been through hell myself.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I know you’re being held against your will. And you are chained.”

---

Hope was not surprised that he knew.

It seemed that her neighbor didn’t have anything to do but eavesdrop and observe her.

“Why would you even try to help me?”

“I am not stupid as to just let something bad happen before my eyes, or across my window.”

Hope shook her head. “I don’t trust anyone but myself.”

She saw him shrug. “Well, if you change your mind, I am just across your window.”

Hope did not answer. She turned around to go back to her bed.

---

That night, before Carl came in from work, she watched the news.

Her fifteen-year-old face was being flashed on the television once again and this time, it told her why her mother decided to bury her.

The DNA tested positive.

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

The authorities finally revealed yesterday that Hope Madden was the body in that barrel. They said they had extracted some DNA and it matched the hair from her old hairbrush her mother kept since she disappeared.

But that body was not her. Where did they get the DNA to match it with the hair?

There could only be two possibilities.

Someone faked it, or someone sent the authorities a sample of her DNA from this very house.

Carl.

It could only be Carl.

But did he have that great of connections to actually make it work?

She would never know that.

He never talked about his work. He never talked about who he worked with.

She only knew him as Carl.

Could he really be that powerful as to fool the authorities assigned to the barrel case?

---

When Carl came home, he went straight to her room.

He was looking tired, but he had something to say.

He always had some news for her if he would do such a visit in his cop uniform.

“I have news for you,” he announced, lighting a cigarette.

Hope just looked at him from her wing chair. She was hungry and she could barely comprehend him.

“We are moving in two days.”

“What?” she asked in surprise.

“We are moving. We’ve been here long enough. You better say goodbye to your friends,” he added with a laugh as he exhaled smoke. He walked out of the room as if nothing happened, as if he did not drop a bomb in her room.

Hope panicked.

Everything she had worked hard on would be for nothing if they left in two days.

Everything.

But what urged Carl to move? What happened?

Did it have anything to do with the news she watched on the television?

Why move her now when all the world thought she was dead?

Hope shook her head. She turned to the wall that separated her and Samantha.

She couldn’t let the girl go through the same things she and Patty did. And the girl could talk, thanks to her stupid ramblings earlier.

Then she turned her head toward her window, saw her neighbor’s room’s light still on.

She stood up and went to bed.

Two days.

That meant she had one more day to think and come up with the best solution.

She could not move to another house with Carl. She’d rather die.

---

Burton arrived that morning dressed in his usual cargo pants and bohemian shirt.

“Still alive, I gather,” he commented, looking at Devin after he closed the door.

Burton was a big African-American guy, not beefy but very lean. One look and you’d know you couldn’t mess with him. In the years Devin had known him, he never considered Burton a friend despite what he told the girl yesterday.

Burton would never consider one of his subjects his friend, he had said. If things went bad, he might take it personally and he couldn’t work well if his emotions were in control. He had once had a subject he grew to care for and it did not end well.

“Here’s the burger you ordered,” he said in his jolly voice, which was not meant to be; he just sounded that way. He placed the cold, wrapped burger on the small table. “No living room?”

“Not planning to stay a long time,” Devin answered, picking up the burger and unwrapping it.

“Here’s the other thing you ordered,” Burton added, slapping a thin folder on the table. “What’s with this guy, anyway? You said he has a daughter. He doesn’t have one. Are you in deep shit? Tell me now so we could move you to another place.”

Devin let go of his burger and grabbed the file, a frown on his face.

“What now?” Burton asked impatiently.

“He doesn’t have a daughter?”

“He doesn’t. Why? What’s wrong?”

Everything, he answered inside his head. “Nothing. I thought it was his daughter. Maybe I was wrong,” he lied. He remembered what the girl said. She couldn’t trust anyone. And so did he. Even Burton though he might scratch the guy off the list. But not now.

“You told me last time he has a daughter living with him,” Burton said suspiciously.

“It must have been someone else. She’s not there anymore. Never saw her again. I just jumped to the conclusion.”

“Yeah, right. Your conclusions were the reasons you are here, you idiot.”

Devin closed the file and threw it on the table, pretending it didn’t matter that much, but silently itching for Burton to leave so he could dig into the file alone. “How’s the case?”

“Still going on,” Burton answered sarcastically.

“When are they going to call me in?”

“Just be patient. You are the ace in this game. You have to have a big entrance. The red carpet is still being rolled.”

“I should not have agreed to do this,” he said. Well, he had been saying it in all Burton’s visits.

“If you didn’t, you’d be dead by now,” Burton answered, the same answer to that last statement.

“I am getting convinced by the passing day that my condition right now is no different from being dead.”

“Just stay patient, man. You know we are doing our best. Once this is all over, you’ll have a new life.”

“I don’t need a new life. I need my freedom.”

“Yeah, right. Make a speech about it and post it on Wattpad. You might just get thousands of reads.”

“What’s Wattpad?” he asked innocently.

“Online stuff. My kid reads it, teens have them on their phones, I don’t know. Don’t bother, it was meant to be a joke and apparently, you don’t get it. You’re living in a cave with…” he looked around the apartment and finished, “locks and guns and paranoia.”

Devin fell silent and finally said, “Well, now you saw for yourself that I am still alive.”

“Well, nobody really knows that you’re still alive. They all think they buried you alive.”

“Yeah, right. That’s why I am on witness protection,” Devin said sarcastically.

“We’re just trying to cover all holes. We can never be too careful. You know you made big enemies and they are not stupid. They might know by now or they may not. We can never be so sure.”

“You don’t have to remind me that. Are we good now?”

Burton’s gaze fell on the folder on the table. “Are you sure you’re not up to something here? Do you want us to move you? I don’t think I like that file I dug up.”

“No, it’s cool. The guy keeps to himself. I just got curious because he has these weird activities. But as you’ve said, I live in a cave with paranoia.”

Burton nodded, looking unconvinced. “Give me a call if something as your spoon goes missing.”

“Will do,” Devin said, leading him to the door. “Thanks for the burger.”

“You are not welcome,” Burton answered grumpily, squeezing out of the door. “Until next time. Stay alive.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

---

Hope was already waiting for the guy in front of her window.

Carl had taken the day off to gather his things, he said. He told her he needed to pack.

It was only when he went to get some stuff from the hardware store did Hope make up her mind.

She saw the car stop outside the guy’s house through her window and not five minutes later, a black guy exited his door and drove away.

One minute later, the guy was in his room, reading something in a folder in his hands.

He looked surprised when he saw her standing in front of her window, waiting for him.

“Hey, so, did you make up your mind?”

Hope took a deep breath. And when she finally exhausted her lungs, she stared at him and nodded.

“I’ll tell you what you need, but you have to help me in return.”

XIV. Home

As he stared at her and her words registered in his brains, a part of him thought he should not get involved.

Something in him said that the girl would only bring in complications which in turn could take danger right at his doorsteps.

He had enemies of his own, enemies who might or might not know he was still alive. He had always been in belief that they knew because it would make him more alert and cautious.

But if he opted to help the girl right across his window, it would not be cautious. It could be disastrous.

“Did you hear me?” she asked, her voice and face in full panic.

“Yes,” he answered and nodded at the same time. “Tell me.”

Her eyes flickered to the street below them, checking for something or someone. Devin knew who.

“I am being held here against my will.”

He nodded. “I already figured that out. But Carl said you are his daughter and that you are crazy.” He had to clear that one up, just to cover everything.

She was shaking her head even before he finished talking. “No, all lies. That had always been his story whenever someone new would come along.”

“Then what happened to you? How are you being held prisoner?”

She closed her eyes for a second. She was about to open her mouth but she closed it again.

“And the most important question is: who are you?”

With that, her eyes went back to look at him through the window grills. “Carl kidnapped me when I was fifteen, ten years ago.”

Devin did not hide his shock. Ten years ago? This girl had been in chains and had been kept prisoner for ten years? Was it even possible? But then, again, it was. He watched the news from weeks ago about three women who had been prisoners for as long as the girl across from his was. One even bore a child.

“And my name is Hope Madden.”

At the mention of the name, Devin took a step back in surprise. How many surprises could this girl have? He very well knew who Hope Madden was but just yesterday, she was declared dead.

“Hope Madden? The one who had been in the news?”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with tears.

“The teenage star?”

“Was is the right word,” she said bitterly.

“Wait, I have to process this for a few minutes…” he uttered, brushing his fingers through his hair.

“We don’t have a lot of time. That’s why I am risking everything I have planned just to tell you. I am desperate. I need your help.”

“I can call the police–” He stopped himself even before she did. Carl worked with the police. “Shit. That’s not a very good idea, is it?”

“No, it is not.”

“I know some people, people more powerful. Maybe they can help.”

“So does Carl. How do you think my DNA ended up in that Barrel Case?”

“But what do you mean you are desperate? Is it because of the news?”

“That and the fact that we are moving out tomorrow to a new place. I don’t think I can hold on much longer. Sooner or later, I’d be escaping and I couldn’t do that in a new place. I can’t spend another year breaking grills.”

“You want to escape now?” he asked, suddenly feeling anxious. Could he help her?

She nodded. “Now. I know this is a lot to ask, but I don’t want to end up like Patty and there’s another child here who is way younger. I don’t want her to suffer the same fate Patty and I did and–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Devin cut in, holding up her hands to stop her. “Patty? Another child? What do you mean? There’s another one there with you?”

Hope nodded at him, her pale face looking sicker by the second. “There was a girl with me but she’s…” her voice trailed away.

Blood drained from Devin’s face. “He killed her?”

A tear dropped from Hope’s eyes as she closed them and shook her head. “She killed herself.” Her lips closed and a whimper escaped through them. When she opened her eyes, she said, “He did things to us, terrible things. Killing herself was her own way of escape.” Devin didn’t have to ask what things Carl did to the girls. He wasn’t sure if he could take them without grabbing his gun and killing the bastard himself. “But I can’t go the same path as she did because I have a lot of reasons not to.” Devin waited for those reasons. “I want to make sure he ends up rotting in jail, dead is the most satisfying of all.” She looked over her shoulder and added, “And he brought in another one a few days ago. She’s just a child and I can’t let him touch her.”

“Wait, there’s another one,” Devin said.

Hope nodded, stepping closer to the window, her pale hands gripping the iron bars. “She’s just ten and she’s afraid. She might tell him about my plans and I can’t risk that. You have got to help us, please. I’ll do whatever you want after that. I can give you money. I am sure my mother has saved up enough to reward you.”

Devin didn’t care about the money. His mind was already racing on how he could get Hope out of that house. And there was another child. A ten-year-old.

Desperation was on Hope’s face as she watched him think.

He knew how hard it was for her to even speak to him and tell him the truth. He knew what it felt like to live in fear and distrust. Talking to him meant she was desperate. He knew she felt it was her last resort.

Finally, Devin nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll get you out of that house tonight.”

Just as he said that, they heard Carl’s patrol car slowing down toward the house.

He was home.

XV. Now or Never

Hope couldn’t control her shaking hands.

She could hear Carl downstairs, moving things around.

She was not sure if the guy across her room window was still there. She, on the other hand, was not.

She was back in her wing chair, her heart hammering fast against her chest that she could almost hear it throbbing against her ears.

What now? She had wasted precious time talking to that guy, explaining unimportant things when they could have just planned their escape.

Carl would have to leave again.

Or she could risk getting caught tonight.

For now, she had to be patient.

---

Devin was not sure what to do.

Carl’s sudden arrival did not give him enough time to talk to Hope.

How would he help her escape? And the child that was with her?

Did she have a plan? He sure hope she did other than those window grills.

He went down to the basement and took out the wooden box he had been hiding there since he moved.

In the entire time he was in hiding, he never thought he’d have to open it.

But if worse came to worse, at least he’d have an escape plan.

They would have an escape plan.

Carrying the box back to his room, he wondered if he should call Burton. Surely the guy could help them. But for Burton, keeping Devin safe was what mattered the most. Other people who may tag along would not be as important. And Hope told him Carl had connections. It was a long shot, but Burton might do more harm than good in such situation.

For now, Devin had to rely on his own instincts. And his instincts were telling him to get Hope and the child out of that place tonight. Other things such as calling Burton would have to be the last resort as of the moment.

---

She almost jumped out of her chair when the door opened behind her and Carl’s cigarette smell invaded the air.

“Did you pack yet?” he asked before laughing out loud at his own joke. Hope didn’t have anything to pack but her other dress.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” she asked, glad that her void did not shake.

“Tomorrow morning. I can’t stand this place anymore. Too many bad memories, don’t you think?”

Is it about that DNA result, Carl? Hope wanted to ask but she kept it to herself.

The hairs on her nape stood as he went behind her and massaged her shoulders.

“What about that girl that died? Patty?” she carefully asked.

His hands went still over her shoulder. “What about Patty?”

“Well,” Hope swallowed as his hands started moving again. “People might discover her.”

He gripped her shoulders tightly as he breathed. “Shit, you are wise for your own good. I should get rid of her before we leave. We can’t have people running after us to our new home.”

Hope held her breath until he withdrew his hands and stepped out of the room in a hurry.

She looked out the window. It was getting dark.

Carl would soon start digging Patty’s body out of that hole. He was too meticulous to just leave her there for anyone to discover.

Hope had thought of a thousand ways to keep Carl occupied that night and Patty helped her this time. Carl would never leave a trace of his evil behind. He’d have to dispose any proof, living or not. If anyone would come across Patty’s body, the authorities would start investigating and it would not be long before everything would lead to Carl. And knowing the police, after everything that had been happening in the news lately, they would find Carl wherever he might be. It was not as if he would leave his job anytime soon.

She had also thought that if the police would find the body and it would lead them to Carl, she might be saved without escaping tonight.

But there was always the possibility that Carl could outsmart them.

So she had to escape tonight.

It was only when she heard the backdoor open and close did she jump to her bare feet and walked to the window.

---

Devin knew she would reappear even before she did. She heard Carl walking out the backdoor of his house.

He was ready for his questions when he saw her pale face.

“How do you plan to escape?”

“I am chained. And so is the girl. Carl is busy with something in the backyard and it might take him a few minutes. Once his is done, he will be going out for a ride. That should be enough time for us to escape.”

“He is going out again?”

Hope nodded. “He should be. He has to get rid of a body.”

It was not time to gag or get sick, Devin reminded himself.

“I don’t have a car, you know,” Devin told her. “That’s another problem. And don’t tell me you are going to stay here in my house because that will be impossible. I will need to drive you away from this place, as far as I could.”

“We will have a car.”

Devin frowned. “You said Carl will be driving out. He only got that car,” he said, referring to the police car Carl had been driving around.

Hope shook her head. “There’s another one in the garage. The one he used when he took me away.”

“Are you sure it is going to even start?”

Again, she nodded. “He maintains it as a hobby. I know because he tells me and because he is sick.”

Devin nodded. “You know where he keeps the keys?”

Hope shook her head. “But I can try to find them. They might be in his room.”

“What if he keeps them close?”

“Then I suggest you start searching the net how to hotwire one because that would only be our runaway vehicle.”

Devin did not answer but nodded. He was not sure about the hotwiring though.

“So for now we wait?”

She nodded. “And hope that he takes his time dumping the body.”

---

Hope went to the wall that separated her from Samantha and knocked. “Samantha? Are you there?”

She heard the chains moving from the other room and Samantha’s voice whispered, “Yes.”

“Look, we are going to get out of here tonight–”

“How? He will find out!”

“Shh!” Hope said, panic setting in. “Don’t be loud. He’ll hear us. No, we are going out tonight because this is our last chance. Do you understand? If he comes to your room, don’t say anything. Just do whatever he wants. Don’t tell him anything, okay? Do you understand me?”

“But what if he kills my Mom and Dad? He knows where they live.”

“No, we are not letting him do anything. Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t say anything. I will come after you later. Just stay where you are. Do you understand? Don’t tell him anything.”

“Yes. Please, Hope, I am scared.”

“We are both scared. But we have to be strong. You have to be strong, Samantha.”

The child did not answer.

“Samantha?”

“Okay.”

Hope leaned away from the wall and started pacing, counting the minutes in her head. Carl would still be in the backyard, doing some digging. The neighbor, whatever he had in mind, better not betray her. She had risked so much trusting him.

---

Devin paced around his living room, waiting and anticipating.

He had tucked his gun behind him just in case he needed it for later. He had packed some clothes, his computer, the small box, and other things he needed in case his plan didn’t work.

Burton would kill him, he was sure of that.

The guy would chain him to his waist once this was all over.

But for now, he had to save Hope and the child.

He placed his duffel bag beside his front door and paced some more. He was dressed in jeans, his hiking shoes and a brown leather jacket he owned for years.

And then he remembered something. He went to grab his box from the duffel bag and opened it. He found them under the other things he hid inside. They were two keys he had been keeping safe for years. He took the other one and looked at it for a moment, deciding what to do. Before he changed his mind, he closed his hand over it and went to the kitchen. He found the sugar container, opened it, and dropped the key inside. He added more sugar and replaced the lid. He prayed the key would stay sugarcoated for a long time.

He checked his watch.

It was six in the evening and the sun was out.

He walked to his kitchen and peeked out the window.

He saw Carl dragging something, but the guy soon disappeared inside his kitchen.

Devin stepped away and forced himself to sit on a chair beside the small table.

He closed his eyes to listen to whatever Carl was doing next door. He could not hear much, but he was certain the guy would be gone anytime soon.

If he was dumping a body, he could go anywhere. To be safe, Devin gave himself at least half an hour to get next door and rescue Hope and the child.

His heart started pounding when he heard Carl’s car start outside.

His legs started to shake against his will.

He had been afraid for years, but this was the first time the he felt the danger so near he could almost taste it and his body was not responding well.

When Carl’s patrol car sped down the road, Devin forced himself to walk to the door. He grabbed his bag and waited until the only sound he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears, his adrenaline pumping hard.

His hands shook as he worked on his door locks. When he opened it, there was darkness outside, the sky with a tinge of orange as proof of the day ending.

Carl’s patrol car was no longer in sight. The house next door gave no sign that two women were being held prisoner upstairs. Devin checked the neighbors. No signs of nosy old maids or housewives. Good.

He did not walk directly to the front door. Instead, he circled Carl’s house and went to the backyard. He saw a hole freshly dug where the flowers he admired days ago once stood. The hairs on his arms stood at the thought of a body lying underneath those plants.

He hesitated when he reached for the door. The guy was a cop and he would surely have an alarm.

Blood drained down his face when he realized the problem.

But if the guy had any security alarm installed, and if anyone broke in, the police would come rushing to the place and discover Hope and the child. Surely, Carl would not be that stupid.

Taking his chances, he turned the knob. It was locked.

He checked his watch. Five minutes had already passed. He only gave himself thirty.

Shaking his head, he stepped back and kicked the door. It did not budge.

If Devin had a lot of locks, Carl had more, he thought.

Not intending to waste more time, he ran to the nearest window and looked inside. No grills like Hope’s. Good.

Looking around, he checked the other neighbor’s house. Dark windows. No one was home.

Again, good.

Devin took off his jacket and used it to shield his head as he broke the window glass with a rock. He then laid it on the sill to cushion his entry. Throwing his bag through the window, he climbed in and landed on the kitchen sink.

A great wave of relief rushed through him when he did not hear any beeping sound nor saw any rectangular device attached on any of the walls that could indicate an alarm system was on. But he could never be too careless.

He grabbed his jacket, shook the shards of glass and put it on. Grabbing his bag, he ran to the stairs and was behind Hope’s door in a matter of seconds.

His heart still pounding, Devin tried the knob.

It was locked.

“Hope,” he called.

The sound of chains being dragged across the room told him she heard.

“The door is locked,” her voice spoke.

“Step back.”

He guessed she did because he heard the chains move again.

Devin stepped back and kicked the door open. Unlike the backdoor, it only had one lock.

The light inside her room was switched on and Devin saw Hope Madden close up for the first time.

XVI. Unexpected

She was dressed in a drab of a dress. And she looked so frail he could put a finger on her forehead and push and she would fall backward right away. Her eyes were brown, or so he thought, and they were both cloaked with fear and determination.

Her lips were pursed in such a way that they gave her a look of someone who was fighting back tears.

Her long, black hair was a mess and some stray strands were on her forehead and cheeks.

She was the worse-looking girl Devin had encountered in his entire life, but she was also the most admiring one. He couldn’t imagine the things she had gone through in Carl’s hands. He couldn’t imagine anyone surviving them, but somehow, this girl who almost had it all ten years ago was able to do just that. She was a survivor and she had more fighting spirit left to make sure that she outlived this night.

“Hi,” he greeted under his breath. “I am Devin, by the way, nice to finally meet you up close. By the way, are you ready to run away with me?”

Her panicky pale face stared at him and he saw a slight twitch on her lips. “Hi, Devin. Nice to know you know some social etiquette but it is not the time for that now. And yes, I am ready to run away with you.”

With that, she walked to a wall beside her bed and started working on the metal mounted on it. As he stepped inside the room, he realized that she already figured out how to escape from her chains.

“Do you need some help?” he asked, taking in the smell of the room. Cigarette and draft engulfed his senses. And she had lived here for more than ten years?

“No. Just take care of Sam. She’s in the next room and her chains might be new. It might take us some time.”

He nodded and backed off the room, his eyes didn’t want to leave her frail one hunched before the wall.

“Samantha? Are you there? You have to listen to me very closely,” he heard her say before he walked out to go to the next room.

The door was locked. He knocked. “Samantha?” he called. He didn’t want to frighten the child.

As he waited for an answer, his mind was racing.

Carl could be driving his way back right now and they needed to be fast. How many minutes had it been anyway?

And they still had to find the key to the car. And he was not sure, despite Hope’s words, that the car would start.

“Samantha?” he called once more. “I am a friend. I am here to help.”

When he did not hear a sound, he stepped back from the door and kicked it. It didn’t budge. He heard the child yelp in alarm from inside the room.

“Stay away from the door, Samantha,” he warned.

He tried another kick and it sent the old wooden door swinging against the adjacent wall.

A red-haired girl was hunched at one corner, her knees against her chest, her eyes wide with fear. Her clothes were dirty and she had no shoes on. Just like Hope.

He approached her slowly, his steps careful. “Samantha, I am Devin. I am friends with Hope and I am here to help. Do you believe me?”

It was important that the child trusted him.

Still shaking with fear, the child nodded slowly. “Hope said you’re going to take us away from here.”

Devin answered with a nod. “Yes. But we have to be fast.” He slowly placed his bag down on the dirty floor. The room didn’t smell like Hope’s. It smelled of chlorine, as if the room had just been thoroughly cleaned. Was this the dead girl’s room?

He opened his bag and took out a bold metal cutter. He figured he would need it and it was the time to use it. He looked at Samantha’s right leg. Hope was right. Her chain was new. “I am going to get you out of that chain. Can I approach you?”

The child nodded at him and he quickly worked with the metal cutter. It took more than a minute but it finally gave in after the third try.

“Can you stand up?” he asked Samantha.

The child slowly did and he led her to the door and back to Hope’s room.

Hope had already freed herself from the wall, but she still held the chains attached to the cuff around her ankle.

“Do you need help with that?” Devin asked her.

She shook her head. “We don’t have time for that. Maybe later.” Her eyes travelled to Samantha beside him. “Hi, Samantha.”

Samantha was already crying, gripping Devin’s hand tightly. Devin hung his bag over his shoulder and looked at Hope. “Where’s the car? Can you find the keys?”

“Downstairs. Let’s go.”

She looked like she was going to fall anytime soon, but her steps were purposeful as she led him and Samantha back downstairs in bare feet.

There were more than a dozen boxes at the very center of the living room.

The kitchen was almost bare as the living room.

Carl was really ready to move away.

“That’s the door to the garage,” she said, pointing at the door he had not noticed when he came for a visit a few days ago. “I will look for the keys. Samantha, go with him.”

Devin led Samantha to the door while Hope entered Carl’s bedroom.

“Stay here,” he told Samantha before he turned the knob.

The girl did not let go of his hand until he promised, “I will be back right away. I just need to make sure that the place is safe.”

Samantha let go of his hand after a few seconds of struggle and leaned against the wall beside the doorframe.

Devin swung the door wider.

The clock was ticking on them and they had to be fast.

He flicked the switch beside the door.

The car was sitting right at the center, perfectly polished. He breathed a sigh of relief. It only meant one thing: Carl had been taking good care of the black sedan.

He scanned the room for anything suspicious.

And that was when he saw it.

When he realized what it was, his heart began to hammer.

---

Hope opened the lights.

Carl’s bedroom was small and smelled of his cigarettes. His bed was not big, but it was made perfectly as if Carl had a woman living in the house with him.

Some of his personal belongings were still beside his bed, but boxes were already neatly piled beside the door. The wall bore evidence of photo frames that had once hung on them. Those frames were probably inside the boxes now.

But the keys had to be here somewhere. Carl would never leave without taking the car. It was one of the rare possessions had took pride in.

She saw the tools he used during his nightly visits in a basket beside his bed and a shiver ran through her spine. He was packing them tonight, she thought.

But where would he hide the keys?

She quickly went to an almost empty desk facing the window and opened the drawers. She couldn’t didn’t try to be neat. She threw away papers, boxes, and other things in search for the keys. She lifted the box lying beside the desk and opened it. If Carl had already packed the important things from his desk, she’d find them there.

The first thing she saw inside the box was a Swiss knife and she immediately took it.

As she continued to scan the contents of the box, she heard a sound outside the room. And then she heard the footsteps. She did not dare ask aloud if it was Devin.

Her heard raced against her chest when she heard the footsteps behind her. Before anything happened, she jumped to the left, ready to fight Carl.

“Hey, it’s me,” Devin’s voice said softly, but his eyes were in panic.

“Why are you here?” she demanded. “Where’s Samantha? I still need to look for the keys and–”

“I already have them,” he said, holding out a bunch of keys in front of her.

“Where did you–”

“Things had gotten more complicated than we thought,” he said, his eyes more serious and fearful.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You better see for yourself. And we have to get the hell out of here as fast as we can, as far as we could possibly go.”

A lot of things ran through her mind all of a sudden. What if Devin was just playing her? What if Carl was waiting for her outside that door? But what if he was telling the truth?

Curious and afraid for more complications, Hope hesitantly followed Devin out of Carl’s room and into the garage after she grabbed the Swiss knife she found in Carl’s box. She would stab Devin to death if he did one wrong move.

Samantha was leaning against the wall beside the garage door, her eyes fearful and confused and her lips were quivering in silent tears.

Hope let Devin enter the garage first.

“I just found it there,” Devin’s voice said. He was not looking at the car that Hope had never forgotten in ten years. It was the very same car that the crew of the movie she had been working on had for that last, memorable shooting. Hope tore her gaze away from the car and followed Devin’s gaze.

And then her eyes widened.

“I don’t think I like this unexpected turn of events.” She barely heard Devin’s words as she looked up, her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat.

Hope’s legs almost went limp when she saw Carl’s big form hanging in the air, dangling from a rope looped around his neck and attached to one of the beams above the garage. His head was dropped to one side against his shoulder. His face was almost blue, his eyes open and dead.

Carl was far from alive.

XVII. Questions

Hope almost slumped to the floor if Devin did not catch her.

“Who…” Her voice was caught in her throat and she swallowed as she stared at Carl’s body hanging by the rope.

“I don’t know,” Devin answered her unfinished question. “Not me, that I am sure.”

Hope shook her head. “No…who…who…”

“Killed him?” Devin guessed. “We don’t know so we better leave.” There was something in Devin’s voice that made Hope snatch her gaze away from Carl’s body and to his wary ones.

“You think you know, don’t you?”

For a second, his gaze wavered as he returned his eyes to Carl. “We can’t talk about this right now. We have to move now.”

Hope did not bother to identify the emotion she was feeling at that very moment. Her eyes returned to Carl, the man who had shown her evil in more ways than one for more than ten years. She had imagined his death hundreds of times, almost all of them in her own hands, but never ad she thought it would be this easy.

Whoever did this was more powerful than Carl, physically stronger.

And wiser.

Carl would never just let anyone in his home.

The person who did it had planned this beforehand.

Before she could think of who would have any reason to kill the bastard other than herself, Devin brought her back to her senses by saying, “Hope, you have to focus. We’re getting out now. Can you hear me? Look at me. Hope!” He shook her by her shoulders.

Devin could have killed Carl. Or maybe Devin knew something.

At that moment, she doubted if she had trusted the right guy.

Her eyes went to the familiar car from ten years ago parked behind Devin. The last time she was inside that car, she disappeared and found herself prisoner. How sure was she that she would not be gone for good if she climbed in there again this time?

She knew she had to make a choice.

“You’re probably having millions of thoughts right now, Hope and I know that one of them is whether you should trust me or not. Believe me, because I am also wondering why I should trust you. I have more reasons to doubt anyone. As far as I know, you are the only person in this house other than that dead man there capable of killing him. So why should I trust you, right? But I am taking the risk because I already blew up every possible chance of myself not getting killed tonight by helping you escape. You have your reasons to not trust me, and so do I. So why don’t we compromise and make sure that we can escape from this house alive?” He said everything in a rush.

She could barely keep up with his words, but she tried. And when she finally understood what he said, she asked, “What compromise?”

Devin went down on one knee to open his bag. “Here,” he said, handing her a knife. “Keep it. You can kill me with it if you want. While I keep this,” he said, showing her another knife of the same size.

“How do I know you don’t have any other weapons with you in there?” she asked.

“Devin stood up. “Search it. Search me. Search the car.”

Hope did just that, holding both the knife and the Swiss knife in one hand.

“We don’t have much time,” Devin told her as she finished searching the car, careful not to look at Carl’s body behind her.

Hope straightened to full height and eyed Devin with flat eyes. “You make one wrong move and I will kill you.”

A flash of irritation crossed the man’s face. “Should I remind you that I came here because you asked for my help? And if you remember, someone else drove his patrol car earlier. Was it me?”

“How would I know if you have a partner or something? How would I know it was your plan in the first place?” she challenged.

“I don’t see any reason why I would do it.”

Hope just looked at him. “Let’s go. Samantha and I are going to ride at the back. And my knife will be right across your throat if you make the wrong move.”

“That is not very advantageous on my part, but okay. Go get Samantha.”

Hope walked barefooted out of the garage and into the living room where Samantha was pressed against the wall, her eyes closed and her lips quivering.

“Samantha,” she said softly. “We are going now.”

Samantha opened her eyes and tears flowed down her cheeks. The girl gulped and nodded.

“But you have to close your eyes. There’s something in that garage that you should not see. I will guide you, okay?”

Samantha nodded once more and gripped her hand when she held it tightly.

---

He did not tell Hope about the gun behind his back because he couldn’t trust her fully either.

She did not search him earlier and he thought he knew the reason behind that.

Hope hated touching him and he guessed she hated touching all men.

Devin watched Samantha’s sleeping form at the back of the car through the rearview mirror. The child’s head was resting comfortably on Hope’s lap.

But unlike Samantha, Hope was very much awake, her hand grasping the knife strongly, ready to slash his throat if needed.

He couldn’t believe he was in this situation.

Was it wrong of him to be involved in this mess?

Something was bothering him though. Who killed Carl?

He was almost certain Hope could not have done it despite what he said earlier. She did not appear strong enough to hang the sick bastard. She would have done it years ago.

Something inside him was telling him something he tried to ignore the moment the thought came to mind.

Maybe his enemies were closing in and they thought Carl was getting in the way so they killed him. Maybe Burton found out about Carl and told the enemies about him. He was the only one who knew about Devin’s interest in his neighbor. Could Burton be one of the bad guys? Was Carl one of them?

He knew his imagination was getting ahead of him, but then anything was possible at this point. Years ago, he never thought he would be in this kind of mess and now he was. It was even worse than what he had seen on TV or the movies.

He cleared his throat to catch Hope’s attention. They were speeding down the highway and out of town, as fast as the old car would allow. They didn’t have enough time. They were not even sure if the car was registered or not. And he was driving without a license. If any of the authorities would get their hands on him, Devin would not even have enough time to prepare his own funeral.

His enemies were fast and he had to get to their next destination fast. There was no turning back for any of them, even Hope and Samantha.

“So, let us say that both of us did not have anything to do with Carl’s death,” he said carefully, breaking the silence but at the same time careful not to disturb Samantha’s sleep. “Do you have any idea who?”

Hope looked like she didn’t want to hear anything from him at first, but she finally sighed and looked out the window. “I am still trying to figure that one out. I saw his patrol car drive out earlier.”

“I did not see it. I just heard it. I did not dare look out the window to check because I didn’t want him to get suspicious.”

“Then, if both of us are innocent, the one who killed him drove that car away.”

Devin met Hope’s eyes through the mirror. Something else was playing around his mind and he knew it was a long shot. “Does he have a twin?” he asked anyway.

Hope shook her head. “I don’t know. If he does, I never met him. I am one-hundred percent certain that the guy who kidnapped me ten years ago and the one who visited my room for the next ten years after that is one and the same. If there is anyone else like a twin in his life, I am not sure. He never talked about his family.”

“How about friends? Co-workers?”

Hope shrugged. “He did get phone calls that made him angry. It seemed that he didn’t want to hear from that person, but the calls kept coming. I am not sure. All I know is that he never told me anything.” Devin thought that if Carl was part of a group of crazy pedophiles and psychopaths, they might never find out. But the questions were helping his mind to think. “I was not even supposed to talk to Patty or Samantha. I was not even supposed to acknowledge their presence,” Hope continued.

“Patty?”

“The dead girl.” He heard a catch in her voice. “The one he had been digging out of that garden. I told you about it.”

Devin nodded and changed gear. “So, where’s the body?”

Hope met his gaze at the mirror once more. “I didn’t see it when I searched the car. You think the other guy took it with him?”

“You mean my partner?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes, your possible partner.”

Devin shook his head. “I can’t believe I tried to help you and ended up being a murder suspect.”

“And a kidnapper if you make the wrong move and take us somewhere we don’t want to be at,” Hope added.

“Relax I will take you somewhere safe. Like you, I am at a loss. But unlike you, I may have more to lose because of this. But don’t worry, I won’t take you anywhere I won’t feel safe either.”

“Where is it?” she asked, looking out the window. Devin knew that she had been gone a long time, been a prisoner a long time to even remember everything from the outside world. Everything she was seeing must be new to her.

“Just somewhere safe.”

“What if I tell you we want to be dropped off the nearest police station now?”

“You told me you don’t trust anyone, especially the police.”

“I don’t trust you either.”

“Thank you for the show of gratitude,” Devin spat sarcastically.

“How about my mother’s house?”

Again, he met her eyes through the mirror. “Do you really want to involve your mother in this?”

Her gaze wavered and she looked out the window once more.

He shook his head because he was feeling incredulous. “I can’t tell you where I am going to take you. You better trust me, else I would be happy to stop this car and let you and Samantha climb out.”

A flicker of worry flashed across her eyes before they disappeared.

“But I doubt if you would want to do that. You and I both know that neither one of us really killed Carl. And surely he could not have killed himself and then drive the patrol car away, right? Someone did it and that someone drove the patrol car to finish Carl’s job of disposing the body. And that someone could be on his way back to the house by now if he had not already arrived. The questions now here are who could it be? And why would he bother dumping a dead body he did not kill in the first place? Why not just leave everything behind after killing Carl?”

“There could be a lot of reasons,” Hope answered quietly. “For all we know, it is all because of Samantha.”

Devin scoffed. “Yeah, right, because she is the new girl.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. It couldn’t be because of me because everyone now thinks I am dead. So no one would bother going after Carl to go after me.”

“Was that what you thought? That someone other than Carl was out to get you?”

Hope shook her head. “I am not sure. I am not sure of anything right now. Carl is dead. The main bad guy of my life is dead. It just doesn’t fit right. It just doesn’t feel right. Something bigger is happening here. I don’t know. Like I said, I am not sure of anything anymore. That includes you and Samantha. You both entered the scene and all of this happened. It is not just right.”

Devin could see her point. And she was right. There was something else playing in the background here.

He felt like they were one of the pawns in a chess game. Someone out there was playing a big game here. But which side were they playing on? His side or the girls’ side? Or was it both?

It was possible. There were people in his end who wanted him dead.

But as to Hope, no one was sure. Maybe Carl had other crazy friends who wanted him dead and wanted the girls in return.

That was one of the things they had to think about.

Who drove the car away? Why dump Patty’s body? Did the other guy intend to make Carl’s death look like suicide? If then, was he planning to dispose Samantha and Hope as well, or take them for his own gains? Was he paid to do it? If so, who?

There were a lot of who’s and why’s here and Devin intended to find out.

For now, the most important thing was to disappear for a while.

No one should know where they were or else they wouldn’t know who would end up dead next.

“Since you know my story, I guess I have the right to know yours too,” Hope said, breaking the silence. “What makes you think this happened because of you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I saw it in your eyes earlier. And what makes you think you have more to lose than us because of this?”

Devin met her gaze through the mirror for a second before he returned his attention on the road again. “I’ll tell you all about it once we get to our destination.”

He didn’t want to spend the drive answering questions. He was used to asking questions. Answering them was a completely different matter.

XVIII. New

Hope was not comfortable not knowing where Devin was taking them.

But if she hopped out of the car, what would happen then?

Whoever killed Carl was very much capable and it was only right to assume that the killer was after them. It was better to think that the perpetrator had already found out that she and Samantha were gone and had discovered Carl’s dead body. It was better to think that someone was out to kill them than to seat back and relax and not wake up.

“Why are we stopping?” Hope asked in alarm when Devin pulled into a parking lot of a small souvenir shop.

He shifted in his seat and looked at her without a hint of fear as she lifted the knife toward him. “Relax.” His gaze momentarily landed on Samantha’s sleeping form beside Hope. “The safe house I have does not have anything to offer to women,” he told her when his gaze went back to her. “I never imagined I would be stupid enough to drag two women in the safest place in the world for me. But now that I have, I have to make sure that you two don’t go walking around my house with that stinking dress of yours. Stay in the car.”  He then turned around to face the windshield, grabbed the keys, saying, “And don’t attempt to pick the car and escape. You know I am the safest company right now no matter how you think I am not.”

Hope did not say a word and watched him climb out of the car and into the shop. A man was already closing the store, but Devin stopped him and talked him into accepting one last customer. 

As the man reluctantly let Devin into the store, Hope sighed and looked down at Samantha. 

The child would need a lot of professional help once she got home. The nightmare she had experienced may be nothing compared to what Hope and Patty had, but it was enough to ruin the rest of her childhood. She just hoped that Samantha would be strong enough to forget everything. 

Hope let the quiet of the night calm her senses and she leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. Trusting Devin was a very difficult task. 

But she had been through hell for the past ten years to know that she could accept whatever misfortune awaited her in his safe house. 

They had a lot of questions and very few answers.

---

Devin grabbed whatever he thought was needed by his two passengers. He grabbed slippers and he didn’t bother to check if the sizes were right. Then he grabbed a few undergarments that had logos of the place they were in, spending a few moments to consider the sizes. Taking a handful of shirts and shorts with garters, he went to the counter and paid in cash. 

He had to save the little cash he had at hand from now on. Cards were not part of the plan and he didn’t have one. Never had one since he spent his life in hiding. 

Devin kept his head bowed down the whole time he was in the store. His enemies had a lot of connections and it was easy to track him down now that he was out of Burton’s protection. He didn’t check if the store had any surveillance cameras, but he assumed it had. 

The man behind the counter threw everything inside a plastic bag and handed him his change. 

Devin was out of the store in seconds.

“I have a plan,” Hope said even before his butt touched the seat.

Devin paused for a second. “A plan,” he murmured, positioning himself behind the wheel and closing the door. He took his time with the key and did not say anything more until they were back in the road. Glancing at the rearview mirror, he asked, “What plan?”

As he waited for her response, he checked for any signs of anyone following them. So far, so good.

“We should take Samantha home.”

“What if she–”

“Do you honestly believe that it is her that the killer was after? We are not even sure if the killer knew Carl was hiding someone else in that house.”

“Then where do you suggest we take her? Home? I can’t risk being seen in the house of parents who are looking for their missing child. There will probably a lot of people there.”

“We can drop her off somewhere.”

“Great. And let the child wander around for another kidnapper to find.”

“Let’s drop her near a police station then. They can help her from there.”

Devin hesitated. Letting Samantha go would make things easier. But what if Samantha was the one the killer was after? 

“Let us first find out more about her, her parents and her life. If I feel like she will not be in grave danger, then we let her go.”

Hope nodded from the backseat. “Okay.” 

---

The safe house he was talking about was a small tattered shack that his grandfather won in from a stupid game of cards years before Devin was born. No one in the family knew about it because his grandmother would have freaked out to know that her husband never got over poker. 

It would take years before Devin would get a call from his grandfather’s lawyer after the old man died, telling him that he inherited the shack. He was still in college by then and had no money to maintain the property. And he was wise enough to not sell it, thinking the place–or the land–would cost more over the years. 

It would then take him almost ten years to remember that he owned a land. And by then, he was already hunted and running for his life. 

No one knew about the little property he inherited from his grandfather. If his parents knew, they never said a word until their tragic accident caused by the very same people who were after him. His grandfather’s lawyer was also dead due to natural causes. Burton had asked for information of all his properties but he kept the shack a secret. 

To Devin, the dilapidated shack was the safest haven.

And he was glad he never sold it. 

The shack was at the edge of the woods that separated the town center from the abandoned lands such as Devin’s property. The woods were almost three miles and were rarely trekked because legend said that wild animals lived there and feasted on humans who happened to get lost. The next house was a mile away and as Devin’s memory could recall, an old couple lived there. He was not sure if they were still alive. 

Years ago, Devin made effort to have the property be surrounded with barbwires and signs that said, ‘Private Property: No Trespassing’. So far, the place looked like no one dared enter the place. It seemed that the little town didn’t have a lot of teens who would get their thrill of adventure by trespassing properties and smoking weeds. 

“This is your safe house?” Hope asked quietly.

Devin couldn’t disagree with her condescending tone. The place had overgrown grass and ony the top of the shack’s roof was visible outside. 

“It may not be a house, but it is safe. Wait here.” He climbed out the car and grabbed the bold cutter from the trunk. As he did so, he secured the gun tucked behind his back and walked to what he remembered as the entrance to the shaft’s driveway and started working on the barbwires that had rusted through the years. With his boots, he kicked the wires out of the way and went back to the car. He sensed that Hope was more tensed now. 

Devin sighed. He couldn’t do anything about it. She had her reasons. 

She just better not be stupid to do something stupid that would put both their lives out of danger.

---

Hope held the knife tighter as she watched Devin walk back to the car. 

She thought it was better to wake Samantha and she did that by shaking the girl’s shoulder. Samantha shot off her numbing lap, eyes wide open and alert.

“It is okay, Samantha. You’re safe. Everything’s okay.”

The girl’s eyes watered with tears as she looked around the dark property, the same time Devin opened the driver’s door.

“You’re awake. How was your sleep, Samantha?”

Samantha wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “Okay.”

Devin and Hope shared a look, both relieved that the child had slept without interruption. It was a good sign, Hope thought. 

“The shack will be in bad shape, but let us pray it will be comfortable enough for all of us,” Devin told them as he drove right through the tall grasses. 

Samantha did not say a word and so did Hope. They both watched in anticipation as they neared the shack. For a moment, Hope thought that her old room back at Carl’s house was way more comfortable than the shack when she finally saw its condition. 

Devin did not say a word. He grabbed the plastic bag from the passenger seat and handed it to Hope. “Take this. Let’s go. We still have things to do before we can get a proper sleep.”

Hope did not climb out of the car until she saw Devin behind the trunk again, taking his duffel bag. 

“Come on. What are you waiting for?” he asked, walking to the front steps of the shack. 

Hope would not have been surprised if one of his foot fell through one of the steps. The shack had been totally neglected for years. 

She let Samantha out of the car and they followed Devin, their steps careful. 

Looking around, she was glad for the tall grasses surrounding the area of the shack. It hid them well enough from the roadside. 

She watched as Devin took out a small box from his bag, opened it and when his hand reappeared, was holding a key. “Let’s hope it still works.”

Hope doubted that, but the padlock of the door seemed to have survived the harsh elements of the outdoors because it opened at Devin’s first try.

The interior of the shack was no way better than its outside. It was dusty, drafty and dirty. 

One look and Hope almost felt tired. They would clean this place up tonight?

“We’ll just clean the areas we need,” Devin said, as if hearing her thoughts. 

The shack was small with a small space that was intended to be a living room but now empty and had been constantly flooded by the look of its wooden floors; a small kitchen at the other side with a tiled counter that were once white but now covered with a yellow and orange stain; a short hallway that led to two small bedrooms and a bath. 

It would have been a good, relaxing place under different, better circumstances.

Samantha was reluctant to step inside but they had to. Devin led them to the other larger bedroom with an old, dusty mattress on the floor. She coughed out dust and hurried to open the window to let in fresh air from outside. 

“Let’s do some cleaning first, Samantha,” she told the girl and almost cringed, remembering that night when Carl had asked her to clean Patty’s room.

---

Devin did not bother to clean the small room he chose for himself. All he did was open the window and laid out a clean bedsheet he took with him. The girls would have to manage on their own. He didn’t know Hope that much, but he was certain she would refuse any more help from him. 

He took out the canned of goods from his bag and walked to the kitchen. He tried to switch on the lights but it was no longer working. Of course. What else did he think? Dark was better, too. 

With his knife, he opened the three cans and walked to the girls’ room.

“You should eat something. We’ll get something better tomorrow.”

The two of them were sitting on the floor against the wall under the window. 

It was Hope who got up and took the cans from him. 

“They are not poisoned if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Poison is also good,” he heard her mutter before walking back to Samantha.

“You better change clothes as well,” Devin said before he left.

He went back to the kitchen to have his meal. And to start planning.

---

Hope sat beside Samantha until the girl fell asleep once more.

She discarded her dress and changed into what Devin bought them. 

It was the first time in ten years that she had something new. A new place, new company, new clothes.

Walking to the kitchen, she was sure that Devin was there and he was. His face did not look surprised to see her standing there with a knife in her hand.

“Samantha’s asleep?” he asked.

She nodded and walked toward him and sat down on an empty wooden stool. She laid the knife on the table. Devin looked at it and into her eyes. Not a word was said, but both knew what the other was thinking.

“You promised you’d tell me your story,” she said.

Devin leaned away from the table, looking uncomfortable.

“You promised,” she repeated.

“I know. But I am not sure telling you would do any good.”

“Try me.”

She watched him take a deep breath and let it out, waiting patiently. “I am under a witness protection program.”

“Not a big surprise. Give me something new. I want the whole story.”

“I may lie to you.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

His eyes flickered to the dusty windows behind her. “I am a lawyer. Was, actually. Before everything went awry.”

An eyebrow raised but she did not say anything. She did not imagine him to be a lawyer. Hop waited.

“It all started when I killed my wife and daughter.”

XIX. Phone Calls

Devin saw the shock and fear register on Hope’s face.

And her hands immediately grabbed for her knife.

“It’s not what you think,” he said in haste, watching the knife.

“What? You’re going to tell me that you did not mean to kill your family?”

“Yes, that and the fact that I was not really the one who killed them.”

Suspicion was all over her face. “Oh, so you are telling me that you are the reason why they were killed and that you blame yourself for it? Is that it?”

Devin nodded. “And the fact that the police still thinks I really did kill them.”

Hope frowned. “Don’t play with words.”

Devin sighed. “I was the reason my family is dead. And yes, you are right. I blame myself for it. But I was framed by the very same people who are after me. Though they all believe that I am dead, the police still thinks that I am guilty and they will be after me the moment they learn that I am alive and kicking.”

He saw her shake her head in disbelief. “If you are going to make up a story, make sure that every hole is well-covered.” She strongly looked into his eyes. “You just told me you are under a witness protection program. How can the police be after you?”

“That’s part of the cover.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“In order to make everyone else believe the story, the FBI has decided to not clear my name. It is a top secret case I am involved in, one that the FBI, DEA, and even the CIA had been working on for years. The local authorities are left in the dark. I have to stay dead in the eyes of the public until it is time for me to testify everything I know against my enemies.” Devin didn’t want to say more so he sighed and pushed away from the table. “It’s a completely complicated case.”

A long silence followed as Hope tried to understand everything he said.

“Who are your enemies?”

He was not sure how to answer that, but he decided to be honest. “Lots of people. The Mafia, people in the government who work for them…I don’t really know. I just know that they are after me. The bureau had never really been transparent to me. It’s just all need to know.”

“The Mafia? Are you kidding me right now?”

Devin laughed bitterly. “You know, those were the exact words that came out of my mouth when I learned the truth. All along I thought I was just a common, struggling lawyer in a firm and then I was a hunted man the next.”

“How did that happen?”

“The what?”

“How did you turn out to be hunted?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary for you to know.”

“I demand to know if I am sleeping under one roof with you.”

“You can always go away and stay alive on your own. I have done enough trouble for myself helping you.”

“We are both in trouble now and I am sorry that I got you into it. But you also believe that the person who killed Carl could have been after you so what happened might still have happened whether or not you helped me. They might have just ended more badly for us.”

Devin did not say anything. She was right.

“So how did you become hunted? What did you do?”

He should not say more, he knew it. But it had been too long since he talked to another human being like this. “I just did my job. I just did it for the wrong people.” When confusion flashed across her face, he did not wait for her impatient remark and continued, “I found out I was working for the bad guys and I decided, a good lawyer that I was, to come clean. Things got out of hand, more powerful people got involved and I had been hunted ever since.”

He knew she found it hard to believe him and he couldn’t blame her. His story was one any legal thriller author could have already written. If only it were true, that his story was merely a fiction on a shelf, but it was not. And so was Hope’s. They were real people with real stories. They were not on a shelf. They were on the run from enemies they both did not even know.

“Okay,” she said, finally blinking and looking away. “I guess you have more reason to think the bad guy who killed my bad guy was after you.”

“You believe me?” he asked in disbelief.

“My story is true. And so could be yours. But believing your story doesn’t mean I can trust you.”

“And all the while I thought saving your life must have meant something,” he said, shaking his head.

“I am grateful that you took us out of that hell, but you can’t blame me for thinking that you don’t have another reason for doing so.”

He shook his head again. “I won’t argue. I would be thinking the same thing if I were in your—”

“Shoes?” she asked in humor.

Devin chuckled. “Slippers. Your new slippers.” There was silence once more as they both got lost in their own thoughts. “You want me to help you with that iron clasp?” he offered after a while.

Hope looked down at her foot under the table. “It would be a great relief, yes.”

“Stay here,” he said, standing up. “And please put that knife away before you kill yourself with it.”

“Not in your wildest dreams,” he heard her mutter as he walked away.

---

“I told you my story,” he said as he worked with the lock of the iron clasp a few minutes later. “I guess it is time I hear your whole story too.”

“I got kidnapped.”

“The news already filled me in with those details, thank you.”

“Mine is a story that will only make you sick. A lot of useless details but no relevant big story. In short, it is a crappy movie with overwhelming details.”

She watched the crown of his head and wondered what he was thinking. His imagination must be running wild right now, thinking of any possible things that Carl had done to her. He had to be VERY imaginative then, she thought.

“Okay, so you were kidnapped and taken prisoner by a sick bastard who happened to be working as a police officer. How had he kept you for so long without anyone getting suspicious?”

“Because there was no anyone ,” she answered. “People in that neighborhood mind their own business. And Carl has his own ways to keep us quiet.”

With her words, Devin looked up to look at her. And he just looked at her without saying a word. And he continued with his work.

“How long had this been around your ankle?”

“Long. He took it off from time to time if needed though.”

Silence once again.

“And what about the other girl?”

“Samantha? She’s new. He took her in a few days ago.”

“No, I meant the one who died.”

Hope swallowed hard. “Patty,” she whispered. “She killed herself. I guess she thought it was the best escape.”

She almost jumped in surprise when the clasp finally gave way and she was finally free. She reached over and massaged the area it had covered.

“And how about you?” he asked, his eyes back on hers again.

Hope looked away and stood on both feet, towering over him. “What about me?”

“Did you ever think of the same way to escape?”

Hope scoffed at the absurdity of his question. “More than I had thought of getting back home.”

“And now you have the chance to go home,” he said, standing up before her.

Hope shook her head. “No, not yet.”

Devin peered down at her. “You still think someone is after you.”

“Carl may have been sick, but that bastard was wise. He would not have been too reckless as to just be killed like that. He could not have made a way to make everyone believe that I was dead alone. He knew people and I don’t think they are people who don’t know him.”

“So you are saying he was a member of some sick cult?”

“No, I am saying he had some help.”

“But, as you said, Carl could have been just wise enough to do all those things alone. You can be safe now, Hope.”

“You’re trying to get rid of me. You regret helping us, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, I do. But I would have been running away in no time anyway. What I am trying to say is that you can go on and live a normal life, a life I am not yet entitled to.”

“I don’t know. I have to make sure first that someone is not after me. I have to make sure that when I come back home, no one is going to kill me or my mother.”

“You want to make sure that the remaining bad guys are my bad guys.” It was not a question. And he was right.

“Yes, exactly, Mr. Lawyer.”

---

Back in his room, Devin opened the wooden box.

It contained a lot of important things he had managed to keep without the bureau’s knowledge.

There was a photo of his parents with his wife and daughter, all of them smiling around a Christmas tree, gift wrappers strewn all around them. A long distant memory, but still too fresh.

He took it and held it between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes lingered longer on his three-year-old girl looking at the camera with her toothless smile. Before he would be overwhelmed with guilt and hatred, he replaced the photo facedown inside the box. He grabbed the black Nokia phone next. He was not sure why he bought it before he completely disappeared from the face of the earth two years ago.

He could call Burton now and he wouldn’t have to stay in this dilapidated shack. He’d be on his way to a new town with a new name. He’d be back to working online as a lawyer consultant. He’d have new neighbors, ones who didn’t have chains attached to their ankles.

He’d live.

Devin shook his head. Burton could be one of the bad guys. He might have been lucky to have gotten away before they got their hands on him. Even Burton would agree that risking his safety at this time would be very stupid.

He was in agreement with Hope.

They had to make sure who was after them. His enemies or hers?

---

“You can wait for them,” Devin told Hope, nodding at the goods the man behind the counter was packing in a bag. “I’ll just gas up.”

She watched him walk out the door of the convenience store and when her eyes returned to the man behind the counter, she said, “Can I use your phone?”

The man looked at her dryly and nodded to his left where the phone was.

She walked toward it with her heart beating fast.

Willing her hand to stop shaking, she grabbed the receiver and dialed the only numbers she could remember.

“Gina Madden,” the very familiar voice answered.

Hope stifled a cry by covering her quivering mouth with her other hand.

“Hello? Who is this? Hello?” Georgina Madden’s voice asked.

She replaced the receiver before she could make a mistake and make things complicated. If someone was in danger, it should only be she and Devin.

---

They had finally decided to take Samantha home the night after.

“Why can’t you come with me?”

Hope looked at the girl gently, holding her hand. “Because there are still bad guys looking for me. For us.”

“Let us tell the police—”

“We can’t do that, Samantha. And you can’t do that too. You promised you will not tell them who you were with, right? It is for your own safety. If you can’t keep that promise, the bad guys looking for us might come after you and your family. Do you understand?”

Samantha’s shoulders started shaking but she nodded her head.

“We’re going to drop you a block away from the police station, okay? And you are going to tell them that you have been missing and that a man took you. You don’t know his name and you don’t know where he took you.”

“Don’t say a lot of details, Samantha,” Devin said. “And tell them you don’t want the media around. Do you get it?”

“I don’t think I can lie to all of them.”

“Samantha, look at me,” Hope said, tilting the girl’s chin toward her. “If you tell them the truth, your life could be in danger. We can’t let you go home if you can’t do what we asked you to do.”

“And you don’t have to lie,” Devin added. “All you have to do is tell them you want to go home to your mom and dad. They will not push you to talk because they can’t do that to you. They will treat you as a very sensitive case. Keep your silence and you can go back home to your family.”

Samantha’s eyes welled up.

“Samantha, you have to do it to keep your family safe,” Hope told her, massaging her hand. “You have to be strong, okay? Don’t let anyone talk you into things. Once you are home, try to forget about everything that happened to you. Forget about us.”

The girl whimpered but nodded.

“Okay. Are you ready?”

Samantha nodded.

Hope looked at Devin. He gave a nod and she took Samantha out of the car in the middle of the night. “You know your home number, right?”

The girl nodded, wiping tears as they neared a phone booth.

“Okay,” Hope said once they were inside. She inserted a few coins and let Samantha dial home.

The girl jumped to her feet and her eyes welled with more tears when the call was answered. “Mommy? Mommy? It’s Sam! I’m here! I’m here!”

---

Half an hour later, Devin and Hope were watching from across the street.

A silver car had just parked outside the police station where Samantha had walked in and a man and a woman climbed out of the car dressed in pajamas.

They both watched as the couple rushed inside to claim their daughter.

Now, it was just him and Hope.

It was time to act.

And both of them knew what they should do first.

XX. Revisiting

Devin knew they were being careless going about the small town in broad daylight but they had no choice. They were running out of food and were getting sick of canned goods.

The day after they watched Samantha go home with her parents, they decided to go to a diner. Breakfast hours were over and there were only two other customers when they walked in.

Devin and Hope went straight to the counter and sat down looking at the menu.

Hope had on sunglasses and had colored her hair blonde. Devin thought she looked even paler she could pass up as a ghost anywhere, but it was better than to keep her dark locks.

Her skin was a big flushed, still getting used to direct sunlight.

She could use some more weight because her cheeks were almost hollow. And he was bound to help her get the right nourishment.

In a diner with greasy food, right, he thought with sarcasm.

“What do you want?” he asked her.

“Ticket to paradise,” she answered.

Devin chuckled. It was good that she could at least find the time for humor.

“Just order what you think is good,” she finally said, giving up on the menu. Her head went to the television over them.

They had been trying to keep track of the news and so far, nothing came up about Samantha having been found. It meant the child had kept her promise. Devin just hoped she’d get professional help to help her get any kind of normalcy because nothing would ever be the same again.

As to Carl, there was not a word on the papers and even on TV.

To Devin, it could mean a lot of things. Carl’s body might still be rotting in that garage, unfound and untouched. Or he might already be buried six feet under.

There was only one way to find out.

---

They decided to go right ahead while the sun was still up and everyone was still out working, getting busy with their normal lives.

Hope’s stomach clenched as they neared the place that had been her prison for more than ten years. It looked like every other houses they passed by. It camouflaged perfectly. Only that it was entirely unlike the other houses with normal families. Families who had their own normal troubles such as their teenage children, the burden of bills, the unkempt lawns they could not afford, and other domestic problems.

Carl’s home was unlike any others. It was designed to house the most horrifying things any of the neighbors could imagine their daughters to go through.

She swallowed the fear and willed her shaking hands to keep still.

He’s gone. He’s dead. He can’t touch you again.

It was her new mantra.

If ever there was anyone else out there who wanted her for reasons, she’d die fighting. She had survived Carl for years. She could very well face ten more like him.

Devin slowed the car across the street from Carl’s home.

They had been silent the whole ride, both probably thinking it was a stupid thing to do.

But they were out of resources as of now.

Devin climbed out of the car first and Hope followed.

They crossed the street and walked past Carl’s home with Hope avoiding looking up at her old room, that four-corner space that had been her only world for ten years.

Devin looked around. She did the same.

They walked directly to his apartment.

He tried the knob. It was locked.

Hope pushed the sunglasses higher up her nose as Devin walked around to check on the window. When he came back, his face was grim.

“Gone?” she asked.

He nodded. “Everything’s gone.”

“You expected them to clean up,” she quietly said.

“I know, but for what reason? To help keep me safe after they find me or to make sure I never get found?”

“That’s why we came here. To look for answers,” she said, walking back to Carl’s front door. “Let’s get this over with.”

The door was locked and so was the garage. Just as they had left them.

What was inside was still a mystery though and they intended to find out. They circled around to the backdoor.

Devin checked the window he broke when he rescued her three nights ago.

“What is it?” Hope asked impatiently.

“It’s clean.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of giving an answer, he climbed through the window and into the darkness of the kitchen. The smell was overwhelming and he almost gagged.

He went to the door and opened it by covering his hand with his shirt. If his enemies were behind this and they intended to clean after themselves, he’d not be an ass as to leave a single print. Hope walked in as soon as he swung the door open and her face crunched up at the smell. She took off her sunglasses and looked around.

Devin flicked on the lights with a cloth. He met her gaze and they turned toward the direction of the garage. The boxes were still at the right places, he noted. Carl’s bedroom door was still hanging open when Hope walked out of there that night they escaped.

They expected the same thing when they reached the garage. And sure enough, Carl’s body was still there, hanging in the air, still as a statue. His skin had turned dark and the smell was even stronger that Devin could actually feel the greasy food from the diner slowly climb up his throat.

He turned around and ran to the kitchen to throw up. Hope was standing by the staircase when he returned, not looking good but not nearly sick enough to run to the sink.

“You okay?” she asked, her lips pursed.

Devin ran his wet hands over his face and nodded. “Let’s go upstairs.”

What they found there almost threw them off their feet.

---

There was not a single evidence of the rooms having been occupied.

Patty’s and Samantha’s old room was bare.

So was hers.

Her heart hammered against her chest when her old bed was gone. The floor was as dirty as before, but there was nothing else there. The wall did not have any signs of a metal plate with chains having been attached to it. Her wing chair was missing and so was the TV. Her eyes went to that one corner of the room where the camera had been. That, too, was gone. She didn’t have to check her old bathroom to see if her toothbrush was still there.

“Someone returned after we left.” The realization almost made her limp.

Devin was studying the wooden floor closely. “Fresh scratches,” he said, pointing at the white trail from inside the room to the hallway.

“Does this mean that they are after me after all?” she whispered, as if expecting someone to be hiding somewhere.

“My place has been cleaned too.” His brows were furrowed in concentration.

“But why leave Carl’s body?”

“To make it look like he killed himself.”

“This is giving us more confusion than answers.” Hope wanted to scream in frustration. They came here for nothing. They risked getting tracked for nothing.

She suddenly felt dizzy. It must be the foul smell.

Sooner or later the neighbors would start to notice it too. They might have already and anyone could be coming up to check on it. “We have to leave now,” she told Devin.  

But he was just starting his own investigation. He entered her old room, looking around for any clues. “If we get an idea of what tools they could have used, anything they might have left behind for a lead…” he was saying to himself.

“Devin, let’s just go,” Hope said, following him inside the room.

“We’re here. We better make the most out of it. I did not throw up a one-dollar meal for nothing.”

“There’s nothing here!” Hope almost shouted.

“Then let’s check downstairs. There are boxes of things down there. If Carl had an accomplice who betrayed him, or people he had contact with that he shouldn’t have, we’ll find them. Scan this room again. You know it better than I do and if you find anything—any scratch that was not there before—you call me.” He left her standing in the middle of her now empty room and climbed back downstairs.

Hope looked around in disbelief. How could he act so cool? But he was right. They had to take whatever they could find here. She started to scan the room and before she knew it, she started to calm down. It was weird to find herself suddenly comfortable being in that room. Maybe because it was the only type of solace she had known for years. It was where she had experienced Carl’s evil and it was where she recovered every time.

But Hope vowed that this would be the last time she’d step into the room that had both been her hell and haven for so long.

---

Devin pulled the neckline of his shirt over his nose and continued his search.

He didn’t know what he was looking for, but having spent a lot of years as a defense attorney had taught him a few tricks on how to find evidence to either present in court or bury for life to save his clients. And right now, he was looking for anything that would save him and Hope. Or even just something to work with so they would know what to do next because if he couldn’t find anything here, he didn’t know if there was anywhere else to go. The two of them had been prisoners in different ways, but it still boiled down to one thing: they never really had more than one place to leave behind anything. For Hope, it was this house. For him, it was himself.

He went inside Carl’s room and started searching inside the box Hope had been looking into when they escaped. There was nothing but useless receipts paid in cash, photos of children he didn’t know, and more trash. For a second, the key he had hidden inside his sugar container back in his place flashed in his mind. Should he get it and bring it with him? He shook his head. It was safer there than with him. For now.

He bent down to pick another potentially useless box when his eyes caught something. He frowned.

There was a noticeable gap between two floorboards. It was just a few centimeters off, but it was enough for eyes that had been ruled by paranoia to notice.

His heart started to hammer as he took out a Swiss knife from the back pocket of his jeans and worked on the gap with a blade. It popped out of place in an instant and Devin almost shot to his feet in triumph, a man who had just discovered his first chest of treasures.

The treasure chest was made of tin, a rectangular tin cookie box with rusty edges. Devin checked for more items under the floor but there was none. It was just that one box. He straightened to full height and walked to the desk.

It took two attempts to open the box and when he did, his eyes widened.

---

She didn’t discover anything else. There were a lot of things missing for her to discover anything else. No particular scratches she didn’t know. No secret messages left by whoever cleaned the place up. There was nothing.

She stopped when her eyes landed on her window, the one she had been working on before her escape, she smiled bitterly.

She had worked on those grills for nothing.

Her feet slowly walked to the direction of the window, taking the same steps she used to, as if the camera was still there watching her every move. She smiled to herself and shook her head as she reached out to touch one iron grill she managed to break.

Her eyes went down on the ground below. She had originally planned on tying all cloths she had inside the room to make a rope and make her escape down there. She and Patty. For a moment she thought of what would have happened if that plan worked. Would they have survived? Would Patty still be alive?

When she heard Devin’s noise downstairs, her mind reeled back to what was urgent. They had to go. Someone might be lurking somewhere in the house or outside.

As she thought of that, she looked beyond her window and across to Devin’s old room and her heart leaped and stopped.

Someone was standing at the exact same spot Devin used to stand on and he was looking straight at her.

XI. The List

She didn’t get a good look at the man. What she saw next did not even give her time to duck out of sight.

The fall followed after the sound. The pain came next. And then survival kicked in.

Hope scrambled on the floor and across the room to the door. Her eyes welled up with tears when she tried to use her right hand. The cry of pain came out of her lips and her breath became ragged.

But she had to reach the door.

“Hope!” Devin’s voice called from somewhere.

She used all of her strength to get out of the door and that was when she Devin reached the top of the staircase. His eyes were wide when he saw her blooded shirt.

“We have to leave now!” she gritted through her teeth as she tried to stand up. “Someone’s in your old room!”

The pain ebbed away as the eminent danger of getting unlucky and be dead came to her.

Things must have happened within seconds, but it felt like minutes. Whoever shot her could be waiting outside with more shots for her and Devin. She stumbled on her feet, holding her shoulder with her good hand. Blood was starting to trickle through the gaps of her fingers.

Before she knew it, she was running behind Devin toward the stairs. The pain was completely gone. Almost all of her senses stopped working except her sight and hearing. Her blood was rushing through her ears in panic.

She knew she left her left slipper inside her old room. But that was the least of her problem. They’d worry about the things they would leave behind later.

Devin held out his arm before her when they reached the top of the staircase.

She wanted to push him. They had no time.

And that was when she heard them. The gentle closing of the door and the slow footsteps.

Her eyes widened as she looked at Devin’s grim face.

What should they do?

The footsteps were getting more distinct.

She was suddenly aware of her heart pumping hard against her chest. She was almost drowning at its sound ringing through her ears.

Devin turned and pushed her back to her old room.

She tried to fight him.

There was no way out from there. They were good as dead if they went there.

But there was no other option. She turned and they both ran back to the room. Devin silently closed the door and he ran to the opposite wall.

“Stay inside the bathroom,” Devin ordered, his hand going to his back. When it reappeared, he was holding a gun. “Go!” he hissed at her as he stood beside the door, back flat against the wall, his chest heaving. She heard the ticking sound as he unlocked his gun. “Go!” he repeated as he raised the gun, ready for battle.

The footsteps had followed them upstairs and whoever it belonged to was certainly not worried about making any noise.

Hope turned and ran to the bathroom.

---

Devin knew he was a good shot, but he had never taken his shots outside of a shooting range. He could shoot targets without flinching, but he never got to test his skills in actual encounters.

He swallowed and urged his hands to remain calm as the footsteps outside Hope’s old bedroom slowed down and eventually stopped.

Devin slowly slid down to the floor and aimed the gun at the door. He knew that the man might be trained to know that danger is not limited to his own line of sight. Any trained gunman would know how to look straight, down and above in a matter of seconds.

But down was Devin’s best shot. He would only have a second to make his lucky shot or he’d be dead before he could have a good look at the man.

The doorknob slowly turned. Devin ran his tongue over his lips, made sure his stance was sturdy. It would be terrible to trip at the last second and never get the chance to get back up.

As the knob turned all the way and stopped, the door flew open.

---

Hope heard the shots from inside the bathroom and she jumped to her feet. But she did not dare take a step to the door. A thud followed the shots. A body dropped on the floor.

But who was it?

Her eyes were closed as she backed closer in the corner of the tiled room. Her sleeve was drenched with blood now and she started to feel the pain again. Her hands were shaking. Hell, she was shaking!

Blood dripped down on the tiled floor and she held her breath.

For the first time, she prayed for death to come fast if it was Devin dead on the floor.

She heard the footsteps coming near.

And she felt a presence inside with her.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and she slumped on the floor, her knees giving out on her, when she saw him.

“Let’s go,” Devin said above her, bending down to help her up.

“Did you kill him?”

He did not answer. Instead, he pulled her out of the bathroom and back out in the room. A body was lying face down on the floor, one arm over his head which was facing them, eyes wide open. She gulped. “Do you know him?”

Devin shook his head. “No. But he’s a cop.”

She frowned. “I don’t know him. Does he work with Carl? Is he the one who killed him?”

“As you might have noticed, I did not bother to interrogate,” Devin answered with sarcasm. He showed her the man’s badge. “This was in one of his pockets.”

Hope stared at the dead man’s face. A typical man in his forties. Well-built and tall.

“If you know him and you are not telling me—”

“I don’t,” Devin snapped more to himself than at her. “We better go.”

“What do we do with him?”

“Nothing. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

---

They drove away as fast as they could. Devin made sure to avoid streets with high numbers of street cams. He had been through a lot of trials that went bad in the past because of security cameras.

And Hope was bleeding fast. “You know getting you to a hospital will prove to be very challenging,” he said, throwing her a look. She looked paler. She was losing a lot of blood.

“Then don’t take me to a hospital.” Her voice was stronger than he expected.

Devin nodded.

They dropped by a drug store and he bought everything he thought they would need.

Once they were back on the road, they decided against going back to the shack. Every now and then he would check if they were being followed. But it seemed that the dead guy who shot Hope was confident enough he could do the job alone.

“Let’s find a place to stay. Then we’ll take care of your wounds.”

---

Hope bit on a rolled spare shirt as Devin disinfected and stitched her wound without anesthetic. Her eyes watered in pain, but she endured it like all others she had been through in the past.

As Devin wrapped her shoulder, her arm was almost numb. Her fingers shook as she the cloth away from her mouth.

“You never told me you have a gun,” she said quietly.

“I thought it would only freak you out.”

“You should have told me.”

“So you could make a big deal out of it?”

She did not answer but met his eyes. “Don’t ever hide anything from me again.”

He held her gaze and nodded. “I won’t.”

“Did you find anything during your search?” she asked testily.

He stepped away from her and turned around. “Get dressed and we’ll talk.”

She only had a towel around her and she almost flushed at the reminder. She grabbed the shirt and disappeared into the bathroom.

Finally alone, she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked pale, almost dead. I’ll be the best model for a coffin, she thought.

With pain, she put on the shirt slowly and went stepped out of the bathroom. Devin was ready with a glass of water and a pill for her. “Take this. It’s antibiotic. We don’t want you to have any sort of infection now.”

Hope popped the pill into her mouth and emptied the glass. Devin took it from her and replaced it on the small coffee table at the corner of the motel room.

She went to the bed and sat down. “Talk.”

Devin looked at her and sighed. “I guess you don’t want to sleep yet.”

She gave him a warning look and he shook his head. “I found something under his floor,” he finally said and he picked up the box he hid under the pillow. She never noticed him carrying it before. He must have taken it with him on their way out of the house.

“What’s in it?” she asked.

He opened the tin box and showed her the contents. “Fake passports.”

“I don’t see why you think they are important.”

“They may give light to some of our questions later. But for now, this is more important,” he said, picking up the small notebook underneath the passports.

“What is it?” she asked, grabbing the notebook from him with her left hand.

“It’s probably his personal secret phonebook. It has a list of names, all fake of course, and their contact numbers.”

Her eyes widened. “You think they can lead us somewhere?”

“It’s worth a try.”

“You’re thinking of calling them?”

He looked at the page she had opened. “There are only about twenty names there so yes, what else is there to do? This is our biggest find so far and I am not throwing it away.”

“What will you tell these people? What are you going to ask them?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we try one?”

Her eyes went to the phone beside the bed. “Using that?”

“Are you crazy? Of course, not.” He walked to the duffel bag he carried from the car and took out the phone he had been hiding for years. “Always have an unused phone around,” he said with a smile.

She moved to his side and watched as he turned on his phone. “Are you sure it’s going to work?”

He looked at her dryly as they waited. When the sound came and the phone was ready to us, he said, “Give me the list.”

She showed him the first number on the page. The name was Sleepy. Under it was Grumpy. “Carl sure did love his fairy tales,” he noted as he punched Sleepy’s number.

He placed the phone on speaker mode and they both almost jumped when it started ringing. Three rings and someone, or Sleepy, picked up. “What do you need now?” an irritated voice asked. “I told you I will not lift a finger after what I just did for you, you bastard.”

Devin did not say a word and Hope held her breath.

“Hello? Hey, moron, don’t call me if you don’t have anything to say! Live your freaking sick life in peace!”

And the light went dead.

“That’s your plan? Just listen?” Hope asked in disbelief.

“Well, what do you suggest I do? Ask them a question? These people probably know Carl not because they are his friends. They do something for each other. They will start talking and get down to business. And when they do that, we’ll be there to listen.”

“Why don’t we do this tomorrow?” she suggested.

“Why?”

“Because right now, we need to rest. And we can’t just call these people in the middle of the day, out of nowhere and—”

“Okay, you rest. I’ll think of something to—”

“You’re not calling them without me,” she insisted.

“I won’t.”

She gauged his reaction and slowly nodded. She really felt tired. She wanted to sleep.

---

Devin was thinking of things to say to the people on the list once Hope woke up.

And then it occurred to him.

Carl. The dead gunman. The shooting.

Someone was bound to hear what happened. Someone must have reported what happened by now and everything would be out in the open. Or at least Carl’s death would be.

And the people on the list would hear about it.

There was no time to waste. He had to call them now or none of them would dare pick up.

He watched Hope’s sleeping form.

He decided against waking her.

He’d just tell her everything he found out later.

XXII. Taken

The list was almost useless. There were people who sounded old and young. There were men and women. Almost all of them had one question the moment they picked up: “What do you want?”

Once, he tried to trick one of them by asking where they are and the caller answered, “Why? Going to kidnap me as well?”

He asked one with a weird question like, “Can we meet?” The answer he got was, “Fuck you. Don’t call me again.”

But there was one who answered in a raspy voice. Maybe it was just that or the person was trying to keep a low profile. “Did you do it?” was the question.

He answered with a, “Yes.”

“You are not Carl,” the raspy voice said and the line went dead.

For a moment, Devin feared that the door would burst open and someone with a gun would shoot him dead. But nothing happened. He turned off the cellphone just in case.

---

She eyed him suspiciously.

Devin blew out a breath of frustration.

“Do you know that if I am among the bad guys, I wouldn’t have risked getting shot yesterday?”

“Then why did you call the numbers on your own?” Her eyes were full of accusation.

“I already explained, didn’t I? What happened yesterday must have caught some attention from the neighbors. And the house smelled awful. How long do you think it would take before someone calls the police? And how long do you think it would take for the media to smell the news? You think that Carl’s contacts would pick up their phones after seeing him on the news, hanging by a rope?”

“Then why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were wounded. You are wounded. Don’t be stupid now,” he snapped the last sentence. He was at the brink of bursting out of the room. He could leave her here. “And I didn’t find anything worthy from that list. They were all people who were not pleased to be in Carl’s contact list. I guess it is now safe to assume that he was just a sick bastard who knew how to cover his tracks by getting the services of others.”

There was not a sign on her face that she believed everything he said. Her brows were knitted in a frown. “It’s just seems simple.”

“You want complicated? Try living my life. I would gladly switch places with you. Look,” he stood up to walk toward her on the bed, hands deep inside his pockets. “I think it is time for you to go home. I believe you’re finally safe, Hope.”

She just looked at him without saying anything.

Then it struck him.

“I think you don’t want to go home,” he said in a low voice.

“Of course, I want to go home!”

“I am not stupid, Hope. Or maybe I am wrong. Maybe you are afraid to go home.”

“Shut up.”

“You think there are others like Carl out there. You think you will never be safe. Or maybe you take comfort to the fact that you are on the run and that no one knows you.”

She shot to her feet. “You don’t know anything,” she said in a surprisingly calm tone. “I can’t go home to a bunch of people who would see me as a charity case. Don’t follow me. I have to buy some slippers.”

Devin did not open his mouth and let her leave the room.

She had been on her own for too long. For ten years, she had taken care of her self—comforted herself. What Hope needed at the moment was herself.

---

When she came back almost an hour later, she did not say a word. She had on a pair of cheap slippers she bought downstairs using his money.

“What did those people on the list say?”

Devin looked up at her from the bed. He pointed the remote he was holding in his hand at the TV and lowered the volume.

“Nothing much. As I have said, most of them snapped at the call, asking what I wanted—or what Carl wanted. It was like calling for Chinese take-outs. They were people who may have worked for Carl or people he threatened to do something for himself.”

“Where’s the box?”

He nodded his head toward the table and she went for it. She would not find anything useful there as well.

“I want to call them again,” she uttered.

“One of them found out I was not Carl. Let’s not risk it,” he said as he turned back to the TV. He straightened to a sitting position when he saw what was being flashed on the news. “Don’t bother calling. It’s out.”

As he turned the volume up, Hope walked toward him and watched the news.

“What can you tell us about what really happened out there?” the anchor was asking the reporter on the scene. Hope saw Carl’s familiar house with yellow tapes surrounding it and onlookers at the side. Police were everywhere taking photos, talking to each other and interviewing people with their notepads.

“The police are not saying anything as of the moment,” the reporter said. “But according to what we have gathered so far, a neighbor heard shots being fired yesterday and called the police. We have talked to the witness and it he claims that he saw two people running out of the house right after he called the police. It was a man and a blond woman.”

“Are they are perpetrators?”

“We are not certain of that fact yet, but it is safe to assume that they are on top of the list of suspects.”

“So, Grace, are there anyone who got injured or killed? We heard that the house is owned by one Carl Briggs. Was he in the house?”

Grace, the reporter, shook her head. “We cannot confirm anything yet. The police won’t say anything since yesterday, but we saw one body in a bag wheeled outside the garage last night.” The monitored showed a shot of two men wheeling a stretcher with a black body bag onboard.

Hope frowned. “Just one body? How about the man you killed?”

Devin did not answer. He continued to watch the news.

“It may be Briggs, it may be not. We are not sure of that yet, but we will be right back for more news on that matter,” Grace the reporter continued.

“What are the police doing right now?” the anchor asked.

“They are interviewing all neighbors as of the moment.”

“How about the ones right next to Briggs’?”

“The one to the right and the one across the street claim they were at work when the shooting happened. There was no one home on the house on the left ever since yesterday.”

“We also know that a neighbor was starting to complain of a foul smell even before the shooting happened. Is that right?”

Grace nodded. “Yes. A neighbor said that she was planning to call someone about it but the shooting happened.”

“Let’s go back to our two suspects. Were there any camera or traffic shots of them?”

“The police won’t say anything. But they were driving a car that the neighbor had a good look at and the police are most probably searching for it now through traffic cams.”

“Thank you, Grace. We will be back for more updates later tonight…”

Devin stood up and brushed his fingers through his hair. “We have to dispose the car. And we have to leave soon. Wait here while I take the car somewhere. Don’t leave the room.”

Hope just nodded without a word and Devin left her alone.

She was not sure if he would be coming back. It was highly possible that he wouldn’t. She was just heavy baggage for him, she thought. And he was right. Maybe it was really safe for her to come home now. Carl was dead. He didn’t have anyone after her, really. Sick bastards like Carl wouldn’t be a part of some conspiracy that everyone would want to kill whoever he was with, right? Carl was just one of the many pedophiles out there who cared nothing about but their own desires.

Whoever were after them were after Devin, not her. He was a bigger catch to those people. Her? She was just some used toy who happened to have asked help from someone who was being hunted.

Hope’s eyes flickered to the motel phone at the corner of the room.

She stood up and went toward it. Taking the receiver, she started to dial.

“Hello?” her mother’s voice answered. “Who is this?”

Hope opened her mouth to speak but no sound came.

“Who is this?” Gina Madden’s voice asked.

“Mom,” Hope croaked and tears started falling.

The gasp she heard from her mother made her want to get out the door and run toward home.

“This is not a good joke,” Gina Madden’s shaking voice said. “I’ve had prank calls like this before. Don’t bother me again!”

“Mom!” Hope cried again, this time desperately. “It’s really me. It’s Hope.”

A long silence followed and she feared her mother would put down the phone any moment. “Hope?” was her mother’s next word. “Oh my god, Hope?! Honey, where are you? Where have you been? Do you know how worried—oh my god this is real, isn’t it? Hope, honey, mommy’s been waiting for you! I never gave up. They all think—Hope, where are you?”

“Mom…” she croaked, her words trapped in her throat. “He’s dead. He’s dead.”

“Who is dead, Hope? Hope? Where are you? I will come get you. I will call the police—”

“No!” she said in panic. “Don’t call the police. Mom…” she said with sobs. “I want to go home.” She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to be with her mother. She wanted to see if she could find a home again—if home would feel the same again.

“Of course, honey. Oh god, Hope, where are you?”

Then she hesitated. She looked around the room, expecting Devin to arrive any moment. Whether he came back or not, he would be free of her. He would have a bigger chance of saving himself.

“Hope, honey, where are you?” her mother’s voice was getting desperate now. Gina Madden was crying at the other line. “Are you being held? Are you hurt? Honey, please talk to me. Where are you?”

Hope composed herself and squared her shoulders. “I’m at a motel. Mom, please come take me home, please.”

---

She tried not to pace around the room. Devin was not back yet. What should she tell him if he came back? It would be easy. He would gladly accept her decision.

A knock came on the door. It could be her mother. Or it could be Devin.

When the door opened, Hope sprang to her feet in fear. It was not Devin. And it was not her mother.

---

He left the car outside of town, beside the road. It was the farthest he could go.

It took almost half an hour for a bus to pass by and he was already weary when he arrived at the motel. They had to find a different mode of transportation, he thought as he walked into the lobby.

A woman was making a scene at the modest reception area manned by a guy who looked like he had been living a boring life. But his life was getting exciting at the moment because the hysterical woman was crying and asking him questions.

Devin was ready to ignore the commotion, eager to leave the place as soon as possible, when he realized the woman was familiar. As a matter of fact, he had seen her before.

He stopped slowed down to listen to her words.

“My daughter is here. She called me to pick her up. Her name is Hope Madden and she had been missing for ten years! You don’t tell me to calm the fuck down! Where’s your superior?”

“I am the superior here, lady. Now, calm down. I am sure I watched the news weeks ago and they said that Hope Madden is dead. It is either you are one crazy fan who cannot get over that fact or an obsessed—”

“I am her mother!” Gina Madden shouted. “And I am telling you my daughter called me to pick her up! I came and she was not in her room! I want to know if you saw her come out or—”

“Hey, look. This is a freaking motel, okay? I don’t care who walks in or out of here as long as they pay.”

“I am calling the police—”

“Fine! Go ahead!”

Devin did not take more time and dashed to the stairs. His heart started to hammer.

He ran to their room and saw what he had expected.

He scanned the room and found nothing.

Hope was gone.

XXIII. A Different Kind of Prison

They tried to be gentle at first.

She resisted.

Then they tried to threaten her.

They knew where her mother lived, told her they could get to her anytime if she didn’t talk.

When Hope kept her silence, they resorted to force.

“You won’t lose anything, woman. Just tell us where he is.” She smelled the man’s breath close to her face. She kept her eyes closed against the blindfold. The man’s rough hands caught her chin and pulled her closer to his unseen face. “Tell me where he went.”

“I don’t know,” she finally uttered her first words. “He didn’t say.”

What she got was a thumb pressing against her bullet wound and she cried out in pain. She could feel her bandage soaking wet with her blood, leaving her gasping for air. The man’s hand tightened against her cheeks. “Just tell us where he is and you will be free to go.”

“I told you, I don’t know,” she managed to rasp out. For a split second she wondered why they never managed to follow Devin. But maybe they really didn’t know where they were until she made that phone call to her mother.

Before she could think of anything else, she was sent flying off the chair she was bound to by a blow on her face. The crash against the wet concrete was more painful than the blow and she was helpless. She didn’t know where they took her. They bound and blindfolded her the moment they walked out of that motel and into a black van. They even waited for a few minutes, the men hoping Devin would show up.

He never did and they drove off to this place and they tied her to the chair.

She heard footsteps coming near despite the ringing in her ears caused by the blow. She didn’t try to move. It would hurt like hell.

“What the hell do you think are you doing?” asked a new voice she never heard before. It did not belong to the two men who took her from the motel.

“I thought you said he’s with her?” the man who hit her demanded.

She felt a hand grab her good arm and pulled her and the chair up. Hope’s head hung near her heaving chest. She could taste blood in her mouth. Her right cheek felt numb. The ringing in her ears continued.

“She was,” the new guy answered. He was the one who picked her up from the ground. “I was certain of that. It’s not my fault you were stupid enough to not get there in time!”

“We drove off the moment you called us, you idiot. When we got there she was alone!”

“Of course, she will be! Do you think Frye would be that stupid not to leave and dispose of the car? Someone saw them driving that thing! Did you wait for him?”

“You think I’m an idiot? Of course, we did. But we had to leave before that woman arrived.”

“What? Scared of one desperate mother? Do you know that you must have probably blown off the only chance we have of getting Frye?”

“That’s why we took the bitch, fucker,” her captor answered with a kick on her chair. She flinched but no sound escaped her throat.

How unlucky could she be? She couldn’t help but wonder bitterly. She happened to be tangled up in this mess after leaving another one. Devin shouldn’t have helped her if he was in this kind of danger.

“What did she tell you?” the new guy asked.

“She’s not saying anything,” the other man answered.

“Shit!” the new guy shouted in frustration. “Of course she won’t say anything! Devin became her protector, you moron!”

“We should have just taken care of her the moment you knew about her, Burton.”

Hope etched that name in memory just in case she got out of here alive.

“We had a plan. I had a plan and you blew it off,” Burton told the other guy. “It was difficult to tap that woman’s phone, you know. And when we finally got the chance to know where Frye is, you go ahead and blew everything off.”

“Then what do you plan to do, huh? Play the good guy again and try to find Frye on your own? You think he trusts you enough? I suggest we make the bitch talk and get to Frye before he comes to the right people.”

Burton did not answer. Instead, he came near her and grabbed her arm to pull her toward him. Hope cringed in pain. “I don’t know where Devin is,” she said through clenched teeth.

She bent over when Burton’s fist punched her stomach. She felt acid rise up her throat and she sputtered more blood. “You talk when I ask you,” Burton’s voice said above her. “Where did Devin go?”

She spat out the tangy taste in her mouth. “I don’t know. I told you I don’t know!”

She received another punch and she came crushing on the ground again. “She’s useless. Let’s just get it over with,” the other guy said to Burton.

A long silence followed. No one bothered to take her off the ground this time. She wanted to die this time. Even if she wanted to tell them where Devin was, she didn’t know.

“Where are you going?” asked the other guy.

“I’m going to find a way to get Frye since you are too stupid to do it yourself,” Burton’s voice answered.

“What do we do with her?”

“Keep her alive.”

“The boss will want to hear from us. He’s not going to like this, Burton.”

Burton’s footsteps stopped. “I say keep her alive or we’ll never get Frye.”

“She is not telling us anything useful!”

“What she knows and doesn’t know may not be useful to us, but she is. I know Devin Frye. He will never let anyone die at his expense again. Be patient while I find a way to get to him.”

“What do you plan to do? Beg him to trust you again? Look for him?”

“He might not trust me again,” Burton answered as he started walking away. “But I know he’ll come find me.”

---

Hope was blinded by the light.

But since it seemed that her eyes were the only parts of her body she could move, she opened them after blinking a few more times.

“You’re one unlucky bitch, you know that?” said the guy behind her.

She did not move her head. She did not say anything. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t do anything. She was still bound to a different chair. And she was in a room, a different kind she was in hours ago. A light was lit overhead and the beam and heat of sunlight through the window was the only comfort she could take at the moment. Her dirty, dyed hair was strewn against her cheeks.

She heard the man move behind her and she heard the bed squeak. “It’s alright, Hope.” She heard him laugh. “You’re right. I know your name. Burton told us a lot about you.” Another chuckle. “You really are one unlucky bitch. Got kidnapped, ain’t that right? You’ve been on the news lately, ain’t that right?”

She did not answer. And he was not expecting any. She wanted to see his face, etch it in memory.

The TV stirred to life at one corner of the room and the room was suddenly filled with the booming sound of the reporter. The door behind her opened and another voice said, “Hey, keep it down.”

“Just do your job and keep watch outside, fucker,” said the man on the bed but he lowered the volume anyway.

The door closed again.

Hope focused on the words of the TV. Her eyes widened when she heard her mother’s voice.

The man on the bed laughed. “Your mother’s begging the police to find you. Stupid woman. She didn’t know you were just outside that freaking motel when she arrived.”

Hope did not move. She should not have called her mother. She should not have asked Devin for help. Carl was the lesser devil after all.

“Burton better hurry. I don’t think I can keep you alive for long,” said the man in a lazy voice. “You’re bleeding like crazy.” He followed it up with a soft chuckle.

She could die today.

Hope closed her eyes.

She was in a different kind of prison.

She wanted to die before anything worse happened.

---

He had left the motel as fast as he could and before the police Gina Madden called came.

“I told you, no black-haired girl came out, okay? All I saw was a dirty blond chic with two men!” the man behind the counter was saying as Devin walked out of the motel as Hope’s mother continued to fish for more information.

All he had with him was his bag. Nothing else. No one else.

Hope was gone. Taken.

Again.

And this time, it was not just some random sick bastard like Carl.

---

Devin hopped on the bus and avoided direct eye contact with any of the passengers. He found an empty seat at the back.

Everything went awry. Everything was a mess. He knew who took her.

They would kill her if he didn’t come out.

He couldn’t let that happen.

There was nothing left for him to do. No other option for him to pick. He was no expert in making tactical decisions that involved guns and gangs. He was used to doing battle inside a courtroom. This was a different battle he was bound to lose.

After a few minutes on the road, he took out his phone and turned it on.

If he couldn’t save himself, he should at least save Hope. And he would do so in a way he knew how. Even if it meant asking the help of the man he barely trusted.

Devin looked at the phone and started to dial Burton’s number.

XXIV. Saving Hope

“You know it was not right to trust anyone, right?” Burton asked him as he sat down beside Devin.

They decided to meet outside an amusement park.

“Unlucky me, I didn’t figure there’s a rat within the very same people trying to keep me alive.”

Burton took a deep breath and sighed dramatically. “Someone got to do what they got to do, Devin. I have my own reasons.”

Devin nodded, looking ahead at the children walking out of the park’s large gates. “The documents.”

“You know,” Burton said, shifting in his side of the bench to look at him, “I had always thought you were smart, you know that? You never told anyone where the documents were. You never breathed a word where you hid them.”

“It’s one of my few aces.”

“And you’re trying to lay it on the table for just one girl.”

“It’s the best one I have. The case against the mob will never be successful without those documents. I may have been stupid to trust you, but I was not stupid enough to just hand those documents over until the trial starts.”

“But you have decided to do it now. For a girl you barely know.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you know her more than you let on when you dug into Carl’s past?”

“Oh, Devin, you really are stupid. Do you think we did not know everything about that guy before we took you to that neighborhood? We knew everything down to the names of their old pets.”

“And you didn’t do something about it. Right,” Devin spat out bitterly.

“Our job was to take you somewhere safe. Whatever that bastard was doing, we had no choice but turn the other way. Well, at least for me, that is. The bureau doesn’t really know about what that guy was up to. I didn’t think it was important. I knew you’d take interest on him. He was a big distraction for you. And things went according to my plan, didn’t it?”

“I am now starting to believe that you are one sick bastard.”

“My wife tells me that every other month.” Burton shot to his feet and looked down on him. “Small talk is over. Where are they?”

It was Devin’s turn to smile. “As I said, I am not that stupid, Burton. Let Hope go and I give you the documents.”

“Not gonna happen. We can search for it on our own if we have to.”

It was a bluff. He knew it.

“Fine. I’ll throw myself in the bargain.” He looked up at Burton and continued, “You get me along with the documents. You’ll like that, won’t you? Your boss—I mean your other boss—will surely be happy to have both me and the documents. He can win the case without the prime witness that holds every little dirty shit he has on paper, right?”

Burton studied him for a second before he nodded. “Well, if you are willing to die this way, so be it.”

---

“You know, now that we’re here, I really think that you are one stupid guy. I believe I told you that already, but really, you are one stupid guy,” Burton said, breaking the silence. “You’re risking your own life to save this girl.”

Devin tried to move but the ropes binding his hands tightened even more.

“Don’t even try, Devin. You’re the one who got yourself into this,” Burton said dryly.

Devin looked at Burton’s face in the darkness of the van but didn’t say anything. Yes, he may die tonight, but not Hope. No one was going to lose their life because of him again.

They were driving to an unknown place. He was not even certain if they were taking him to where Hope was, but he had no other choice. Burton wouldn’t agree to meet elsewhere. He either had to trust him one last time or get lost. The only thing that was keeping him alive was the location of the documents.

As the van took a turn and the road got bumpier, Devin prayed he could at least see Hope to safety before he’d be killed.

“You know I am not going to tell you where I hid those documents if you don’t let her escape,” he reminded his old protector.

“Don’t worry, your girl will live. Just do your end of the bargain and give us the damn documents.”

Devin pictured the documents hidden inside a vault somewhere in New York. The key was in his apartment, buried in a sugar jar, and he fervently prayed that no one had found it yet. Killing him right now would be out of the question for Burton and his men.

---

“I don’t know what you are talking about. He didn’t tell me anything about any documents,” Hope answered for the fifth time.

She received another blow across her cheek for that.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get the answers in no time,” the guy said as he walked back to the bed.

Hope could barely see his face now. Her eyes were too swollen to even have a glimpse of anything. She could feel the remaining strength she had leave her body. Her senses were numb. She didn’t know which part of her body was painful anymore. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was bleeding inside.

“Your boyfriend’s on his way to save you,” the man said behind her and Hope’s heart stopped for a second. The first word that came to her mind was NO. Devin should not be stupid to come and save her. She was just nobody. She’d rather he be safe to be on that witness stand and throw to prison the very same people who tortured her.

The man was saying something more but she was already losing consciousness. The beating and thinking had easily left her weak. Her last thought was that death was coming near.

---

Hope was awakened by the shaking of her shoulders and the slap across her face.

“Wake up, hey, wake up!” the man was saying, grabbing her cheeks by one hand to make her look up to him. She opened her eyes but couldn’t see anything other than the blurry face of the man. Her eyes were still too swollen. “Your boyfriend’s here,” the man sneered.

She almost cried out in pain when she tried to move her eyeballs to look behind the man. She could make out two figures standing by the doorway.

“You crazy son of a bitch,” Burton’s words boomed. “I told you not to touch her, didn’t I?”

“I was bored,” her captor answered.

“Hope,” she heard Devin’s voice and she almost felt tears pooling her eyes. She tried to speak, to tell him he should not have come. “We should bring her to a hospital.”

“Not,” Burton said, pushing Devin forward into the room, “until you give us what we need.”

“Can’t you see that?!” Devin shouted. “Your men have turned her into a punching bag!”

“She’s still alive, isn’t she?” Burton answered. “Tell us where the documents are and we’ll get her out of here.”

“No,” was Devin’s strong answer. “You can kill us both right now, but I am not saying anything unless she gets proper treatment.”

“Don’t push it, Frye,” Burton said. “Tell us where the documents are!”

“Let her go and we’ll talk.”

For a long moment, Hope watched as Burton and Devin stood facing each other. She could almost picture out death looming over them.

---

“Once they drop you in the hospital, you call the police. And then you call your mother,” Devin said under his breath.

“You shouldn’t…” Hope tried, but everything started aching again. “Devin, you shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t speak. Just do exactly what I told you. Tell them not to let anyone come near you but the doctors and the nurses. Call your mother. Call the police. Did you get that?”

“They’re going to kill you.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Tears streamed her face. “I shouldn’t have asked for your help.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Last time we talked, you barely even trusted me.”

“You know it was all a lie.”

“But now you have proof that I am the best person to trust, right?” he asked bitterly. “I just wish I shouldn’t have left you in that motel.”

“They could have tracked us anyway,” she said and grunted when the van hit a large bump. They were traveling with Burton and the driver. She felt like they were being delivered to the gates of hell.

“I’ll tell the police everything. I’ll tell them to rescue you. You have to stay alive until they find you.”

“You can try, but I have been on the run for too long and these guys are not going to let me go that easily. But you can try.”

A long silence followed as the two of them sat at the back of the van.

“Devin,” Hope finally said.

“What?”

“If we get through this, if we both end up alive, you’ll come find me, right?”

It took him almost a minute to speak. “If that miracle happens, I’ll come see you.”

“We can have a proper coffee. I’ll buy.”

“Of course. You’re rich. You should pay.”

“Then you’ll come with me to visit Patty’s parents. I don’t think I can face them alone.”

“And you’ll help me clean up that shack. We should do some barbecue there sometime.”

“I like barbecues.”

“Me too.”

---

“We’re here,” Burton announced after he opened the door.

Devin looked out the tinted window of the van and to the entrance of the emergency gate of the hospital.

“You should go.”

“I don’t—”

“I just gave up a lot of things to save you, Hope, don’t let me regret it. Go before they change their mind.”

He felt her hand touch his bound ones. She weakly squeezed them without a word.

“Get the fuck out now or we’ll shoot you dead,” Burton warned, pulling Hope’s arm toward him.

“Devin, no, please—” Hope said in desperation before Burton yanked her out of the van and shut the door.

Devin watched as she struggled to cross the street and into the emergency gates. By then, Burton was back inside the van.

“Were you so sure that I would tell you everything you needed to know now that she’s safe?” he asked no one in particular as he watched two nurses in scrubs running toward Hope.

“Of course,” Burton answered as the van started. “We have you now, don’t we? And she’s not completely safe yet. We can always come back if you don’t talk. She’s one hell of a famous lost superstar after all. It won’t be that hard to find her.”

Hope was now being rushed inside the ER.

Devin closed his eyes. Saving Hope was his priority. Now, staying alive was.

XXV. Reports

Everything happened so fast.

One moment she was struggling toward the ER and she was being wheeled on a wheelchair the next. And then she was on a stretcher, surrounded by different sounds.

She could barely make out what everyone else was doing. She tried to speak but no one seemed to hear her.

Finally, someone was talking to her, asking questions of who she was, where she had been, what really happened, was there anyone she wanted to call?

“Yes, yes,” she said through clenched teeth. She was fighting the darkness that was about to close in on her. She had to tell them about Devin. Someone had to go after him and save him.

“Ma’am, what is your name?” the nurse asked again.

Hope blinked twice against the light on the ceiling. She could hear clattering somewhere and someone else was giving orders she could barely comprehend.

“Police, call the police,” she managed to utter between breaths. “Devin, you have to save Devin.”

“Ma’am, can you tell us your name?” the voice had become urgent when she mentioned the police.

“Hope. Hope Madden.” There was a short period of silence from the voice and the activities around her continued for some time. And then everyone stopped for a few more seconds when her name sank in their heads. Someone gasped, “Oh my god!” while another voice ordered, “Call the police. Now! And I need a STAT MRI.” Someone else asked, “Are you suspecting internal hemorrhage?”

Hope couldn’t understand them. Her mind was on other more important concerns. “Mom. Call my mom.”

“Your mom?” the voice beside her asked again.

Hope swallowed. “Mom. Gina Madden. Police. Devin…”

“Hope, you have to relax,” a different voice said from her other side. “We need you to relax, okay? Someone is calling the police now. The police will then contact your mother. Right now, we need to focus on you. We are going to do some tests to make sure that you are okay. Were you beaten? Tortured?”

She nodded. “Devin. Help Devin.”

“Hope, you have to stay calm. The police are coming. We have to make you ready for them, okay? We’ll do some tests and you can trust us, okay?”

“No other people. Doctors. Nurses. No other,” she said under her breath.

“Yes. No other people can come near you.”

The best she could do at that moment was to trust the voices. If she lived through this, she’d know she did the right thing.

---

Devin was not feeling good.

No one had touched him yet.

Not a finger was laid on him.

And it made him even more anxious.

Burton and the other two men with him had a plan.

“When is the torture going to start?” he finally asked.

Burton did not look up from the paper he was reading but he smiled and said, “We’re waiting for someone. Hang in there, Frye. Just don’t forget to remember where you hid the documents and everything will be good.”

“You mean for all of you. I’ll be dead the second you have the documents in your hands.”

Burton flipped the paper to the next page. “You might be right. But it won’t be a painful death— that I can assure you.”

As the waiting continued, Devin tried to think of any possible way he could save his own life. He was tied to a chair—the same one Hope was sitting on hours ago. He couldn’t think of any. Maybe this was the end for him after all. Maybe his purpose was to save Hope.

---

Hope opened her eyes and was suddenly blinded by the light. She closed it again.

She could hear a beeping sound from overhead. She could feel the warm pillow below her head. But she did not dare move any part of her body covered by the comforter. How she lived through everything, she didn’t know. She turned her head to one side and she saw the window and the dark sky outside. It was raining and raindrops splattered against the glass. Devin crossed her mind and she started to panic.

Her body sat on the bed before she even thought about it and then she saw her mother.

Her movement stirred Gina Madden from her sleep and when she opened her eyes, she flew off the chair she was sitting on and before Hope knew it, she was in her mother’s embrace.

Tears pooled her eyes as she stifled a moan. Her nose ran, but she could not even move her hand to wipe them. Her mother was shaking, her face buried in the crook of Hope’s neck.

“You’re alive. I knew you’re alive,” her mother kept saying, as if trying to convince herself that she was not living a dream. “You’re here. You’re alive.”

Hope did not say anything. She didn’t know what to say.

When her mother finally pulled away, she saw the tears were still running down her cheeks. And hers seemed endless too. Gina Madden cupped Hope’s swollen face and gently wiped the tears with her thumb ever so gently. The pain Hope felt from her bruises mirrored in her mother’s face. “I will never let you out of my sight ever again.” Her mother’s lips quivered as she said it. “Whoever did this to you, whoever they are, they are going to pay.” Anger layered the hurt in her mother’s voice and Hope wanted to slap herself for not saying anything. No words could escape her mouth. Looking at her mother’s tortured look brought not only her own suffering but also the woman’s. She had seen her mother live on national television, begging the authorities to keep on searching for her for years and she could only imagine the desperation the woman had gone through.

She should have just gone home the moment she was out of Carl’s home. If she did, her mother would be hurting less. And Devin would not be where he was right now.

“Mom,” she finally managed to croak, remembering her last picture of Devin inside that van. “The police. I want to talk to the police.”

Her mother was shaking her head even before she said the last word. “No. You will talk to them when you are ready. When you are physically okay.” Gina Madden’s voice was firm, reminding Hope of the woman who had raised her alone for fifteen years before she disappeared. She missed that voice. She missed every pitch and tone of her mother’s voice.

But she shook her head. “I need to talk to the police. Devin needs my help!”

“Devin? Who’s Devin?”

“I’ll explain if you call the police.”

Her mother met her strong gaze and for a moment they did the same thing they used to do ten years ago: argue with their eyes. And this time, she won because Gina Madden sighed in defeat. “Okay. Ten minutes. That’s all I am going to give you.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, pulling away from her mother. “Please, call them now.”

Her mother stared at her with concern. “Hope, honey, you have been through a lot, I know it. I don’t think you should be talking to the police this soon. As much as I want to kill whoever did this to you, whoever took you away, I want you to be better first. I failed as a mother when you went missing. You disappeared right before my eyes and I did not even lift a finger to help you. I can’t let that happen again—” her mother started crying again and Hope reached out her good hand to console her.

“Mom, no one is to blame to what happened to me but that bastard, okay? I am here. I am safe. No one is going to get to me. I just want to talk to the police because a friend of mine is in danger right now and he needs my help. I got here safe because of him and now I don’t know if he is okay.”

Confusion was painted all over her mother’s face but she nodded anyway. She backed away to the door and said, “I’ll call them now. One of them is actually waiting outside until you are ready.”

Hope nodded and watched her mother disappear outside to call the officer.

---

Devin was just given the best meal he had had for days. At first he didn’t want to touch it, but he figured no one would dare poison him while his secret was still his own.

When his meal was over, Burton took it away. The other guy was watching the news and he could hear Hope’s name everywhere. It was just like when those three women from Ohio were finally freed. It was an instant sensation and now, it was Hope. The media had been camping outside the very same hospital Devin had been last night and it seemed that not one of them had the intent of leaving soon. It only meant one thing: Hope was still inside.

He had heard different reports and theories as to what really happened to Hope, but she—or anyone close to her—had not given a statement yet. The police would not talk, leaving everyone to spend their time wondering and making up theories.

Devin’s head looked up when the door opened and Burton came in. This time, he was not alone. A man wearing a coat and tie was with him. He was smiling at Devin as he came in. Devin knew that face. He had seen it many times.

---

“Where do you think they took him?”

That was the problem. She didn’t know where. “I just know they took me to some kind of a cheap motel. Not very far from here, maybe, because they dropped me here in a short time. I don’t know if they went back there with Devin, but you should at least try.”

The officer looked at Hope with a blank expression on his face. “Miss Madden, it will be very difficult for us to track him—”

“Then call the FBI! They know Devin! He’s under witness protection. Let me talk to one of them!” She was getting desperate. Devin should have told her more. And then her eyes lit up. “Burton! His name is Burton! Devin knows him but he turned out to be working for the people who are after Devin. You have got to tell the FBI!”

The officer turned to look at her mother at the corner of the room, a look of concern on his face.

“You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’ve gone crazy? That whatever happened to me made me mad? I am not crazy! I am telling you the truth! Check the cameras outside the ER! A van dropped me here and they left with Devin in it! He came to save me and now he is in danger!” She turned to her mother pleadingly and Gina Madden flew to her side and took her hand without a word. “Mom, tell them. Tell them about the motel, how you got there and did not find me! I was there! I was waiting for you but other people took me, people who were after Devin!”

“Is that true?” the officer asked Gina Madden.

Her mother nodded. “I filed a report on this. You should check your records.”

The officer nodded and got up. “I will try to look into it,” he told Hope. “We will try to talk with the bureau, but that’s all we can do for now until actual evidence shows up.”

Hope was angry. How could they doubt her words? If they wanted evidence, they might not get any and if they would, it might already be too late for Devin.

“You need to rest, sweetheart. Please, do it for me,” her mother pleaded when the officer exited the room.

Hope let her mother guide her back on the bed. “They have to save him,” she said.

“I’ll call them every now and then. I will tell you of any updates when you wake up. For now, please, just sleep. The doctors said you need a lot of rest for your wounds to heal. You’re lucky there was no internal bleeding. But you still need a lot of rest.”

She just nodded and closed her eyes as her mother smoothed her hair.

“When you get out of here, the first thing I will do is dye your hair black. I hate your blond locks right now.”

Hope smiled faintly. It was her first real one for days.

XXVI. The Bad Guy

He was known as Falcon among the people who were hunting him down, just BOSS to those who worked for him, and Anthony Garbanzos to those who knew his transactions—just like Devin.

The Falcon looked like any typical grandfathers out there—white hair, wrinkled face, bushy eyebrows and a big smile—but that was just that. The guy was too powerful that those who knew him could never picture him as an old man holding a fishing rod with his grandson. But he was not the biggest boss. The Falcon worked for a bigger one, a much powerful one. Devin could not help but bitterly think that he would be giving away to these people the very things they feared the most—the very things that could throw them behind bars for life.

He was sitting right across Devin who was still tied up to the chair. The only other person in the room with them was Burton who was sitting in one corner, looking uninterested. It was a bluff, Devin knew. They wanted him to feel uneasy by being easy on him. He also knew that the other two men were outside the door just waiting for him to run out and kill him. And there could be others as well, he thought. The Falcon would not have come here alone.

“We’ve been looking for you for days, Devin,” the Falcon said with a laughing voice that did not sound happy at all. It actually sounded eerie.

“As I have heard,” said Devin.

“You should not have disappeared like that, you know. I liked it better when I knew exactly where you were.”

Devin wanted to throw Burton an accusing look but the man was hiding behind the damn papers again, probably pretending he was inside a café. Devin did not say anything.

“It was a stupid plan, Burton,” said the Falcon. “Putting him beside that psycho.”

Burton just grumbled something and went back to reading.

The Falcon returned his eyes on Devin. “I have tried to be patient, you know. Because I hate blood. That’s why you are still in one piece. I hate to see anyone drooling and bleeding blood. I can’t sleep whenever I am exposed to so much killing.” He waved his hand in the air as if trying to erase an image before him. “That’s why I work the papers. I work behind a desk. I do the transactions. But I never go to the sites. You can see it now, do you?” His eyes held Devin’s for a time before he chuckled. “But now I am here because I want you to personally tell me where you hid them.”

“Somewhere safe,” Devin answered.

The Falcon pretended to consider his answer before he shook his head at Devin, clucking his tongue. “Devin, you must understand that you are still alive because of me. You have been alive for two years because of me. Because, I have explained, I hate blood. I hate painful screaming,” he said with a cringe. “And right now, I hate to do that to you too. You should have just told Burton the truth a long time ago. Who knows? You might still be alive right now, walking the streets like nothing happened. But you decided to disappear and you won’t tell us where you hid those documents!” He shouted the last three words, his saliva flying across toward Devin’s face. It took him just two seconds to return his calm demeanor but his face was still red. The door opened and two men Devin never saw before poked their heads in to check what caused the shouting. The Falcon raised his hand and the two men closed the door again. “I am sorry about that,” he said to Devin, straightening his tie. “I am just under so much stress right now. As the man responsible for all transactions and reports, it is my duty to make sure that everything is in their proper place. But the documents have been misplaced for two long years and I am getting impatient. The people I work with are getting impatient and my ass is on the line as well. As you might already know, my boss is about to go to trial because of what you did.”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

“You think?” The Falcon asked incredulously. “Oh, of course not. You just stole every file that would land all of us in jail!”

Devin shrugged. “It was on impulse.”

“And you have lost your family in the process, right?”

Devin bit his tongue to contain his anger.

“You are not willing to waste more lives, right? Who was that woman again—Hope? I heard she was a former superstar. She’s on the news a lot lately because of you. But if you don’t cooperate, her funeral will be another big sensation. I don’t think you want her dead, right?” Devin did not answer. He was trying to think of any way out. But he had done that before and it did not work. “I don’t like blood, Devin, but I don’t like prison either. So,” the Falcon said, “before I decide to kill you now, tell me where the files are and maybe you’ll live for a few more days. We need to make sure that you lead us to the right files first before we decide to take them home to Panama. And then we’ll decide whether or not to kill you too. And if we do think you have to die, you have my word that your death will be far less painful than the one you’ll get if you keep on playing games with me because,” the Falcon leaned forward to look him in the eye, “I have no time for games. The people I work with have no time for games.”

The Falcon stood up when Devin kept his silence.

And then he landed back on his seat, his eyes wide open, a gunshot wound on his forehead.

Devin’s breath was caught in his throat as the Falcon slumped lower in the chair, his mouth open. Whatever he was about to say next died with him.

Burton stood up and started folding his paper which now had a bullet hole in the middle. Devin gulped when he saw the gun attached to a silencer.

Burton looked at him with a frown. “What? Come on, you think I would just let them kill you?”

Devin was lost for words. How could things get any crazier?

“Stop looking at me like you’re seeing a ghost. This is your fault,” Burton said, walking over to him. He started to untie the ropes that attached Devin to the chair. “You have to be very quiet and do exactly as I say.”

“You expect me to do what you say after everything?!” he hissed at Burton. He jumped to his feet and kneed Burton on the groin. The man fell on the floor with a thud and a moan and Devin grabbed for the gun. He pointed it down on Burton, his hands slightly shaking. He could never get used to holding a gun.

“You really are an idiot. You know, I should remind myself not to untie the subject before killing the bad guys.”

“Shut up,” Devin hissed at him.

“And I should really teach you how to fight next time,” Burton said before his leg swept Devin off his feet in a flash. He grabbed the gun from Devin almost at the same time. Devin found himself pinned on the floor with Burton’s strength and weight. “I’ll explain everything later but for now, sorry for this—among other things,” Burton whispered before he punched Devin unconscious.

---

The swelling on her face had greatly improved and she could see everything quite clearly now, especially her mother’s concerned face.

“It’s okay, mom, I’ll be here. You can wait outside,” she told Gina Madden.

Her mother ran her fingers through her black hair, calming herself. She nodded at Hope and looked at the two men who entered the room. They said they were from the FBI and Hope did not rush in checking their credentials earlier.

“This is a classified case, Miss Madden,” one of them said, addressing the distraught Gina Madden. “We need to talk to your daughter alone.”

Her mother nodded once more and kissed Hope’s head before walking to the door. “I’ll be right outside,” she said, giving emphasis on the last word for the two men.

They patiently waited until the door firmly closed behind the woman before they went down to business.

“We were given information that you know Devin Frye and that you had been with him for some time.”

Hope nodded then stopped because her head still ached. “Yes,” she said.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday evening, the night I came here. Burton and some other guys took us here because Devin struck a deal with them. I get to escape in exchange for whatever they wanted from him.”

Hope was not sure if what she said made any sense to them because they did not give any sign that they did—or didn’t.

“And did they mention where they are going to go next?”

Hope shook her head.

A second of silence before the older guy asked, “What did Devin Frye tell you?”

Hope frowned. “Shouldn’t you be looking for him now? What he told me doesn’t matter! He might be dead by now! Don’t you guys need him?”

“What did Devin Frye tell you, Miss Madden?” the older man repeated.

“Nothing much. Just that he was under witness protection. Aren’t you going to find him? You’re wasting your time talking to me here. I don’t care about whatever case you are working on. I just want Devin safe.”

“We understand your concern Miss Madden,” the younger of the two spoke. “But what Devin Frye had told you is what we are most concerned about at the moment.”

Alarm registered throughout her system. “Why?”

The two men looked at each other. Then the younger one turned to her and said, “Because your life depends on it.”

---

When Devin regained consciousness, he found himself still lying on the floor. He shot to his feet in survival mode, his eyes frantically scanning the room.

“Relax, you’re safe now,” said Burton from the corner of the room, his eyes focused on a phone in his hand. Devin jumped and was about to attack with nothing for a weapon but Burton looked at him dryly and waved the gun at his direction. “Sit the fuck down before I pull the trigger.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Devin asked, not intending to sit down. His eyes went to the five bodies across the room, all of them piled together. On top of them was Falcon, good as dead.

“It means, Devin, that I just saved your life again,” Burton snapped at him. “You’re going to sit down or not?”

“You expect me to believe you now?” Devin almost shouted.

“You are one lucky bastard, you know that? But you are only lucky because I have your back, you ungrateful son of a bitch.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“ They tried to kill you,” Burton corrected, placing the gun on the table beside him. “Just sit down, dammit.”

“I want to get the fuck out of here now,” he demanded.

Burton shook his head. “You can’t do that. Not alone. We have to wait for the others. You will be relocated to a temporary site before we decide what to do.”

“What the hell do you mean?” he asked, feeling dumb and completely lost.

“Please, Devin, just shut the fuck up before I make someone put a stamp on your stupidity. Do you know how much trouble I had to be in just to make sure that you’re alive? And all of them because you thought yourself a hero by saving that girl!”

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand anything right now. Where do you really stand, Burton? The bad guys or the good? I don’t think I know which is which, actually, because I have been chased by different kinds of people for two fucking years! So don’t blame me if I seem stupid to you! I was half-ready to face death minutes ago and now I am facing yet another unknown and you just sit there calling me stupid!”

“Well, sit the fuck down and let me explain.”

“I ask the questions, you answer,” he said, not sitting down.

“Fine. Just get it over with before they all arrive.”

“Are you with the bad guys or the bureau?”

“Bureau. Stupid of you not to have figured that out already.”

“Then why the hell are you with these guys?” he demanded, pointing at the dead bodies across the room.

“I am on an undercover mission,” Burton answered. “Which is over now, by the way, because I just killed five of their men to save your ass.”

“Undercover? For what? I thought the case was doing okay ?”

“That’s true. The case is doing okay. But we still need to make sure that everyone is in their right places when we make the arrests. Well, you can say Falcon is off the list now. It will be hard to track the others now because of you.”

Devin finally gave up and found a chair. He dropped on it and covered his face with his hands. “You were the one responsible for putting me in that neighborhood. You said you knew who Carl was from the very start.”

“Of course, we knew. We knew what he was up to. And the bureau knew. It was part of our cover.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The bad guys,” Burton said, pointing at the dead bodies, “wanted you to trust me with your secrets. We, the bureau, came up with a plan to make it look like I am doing something. We placed you right next to that sick bastard’s home hoping something wrong would happen like you find out who he really was and you get in trouble. We, the FBI, will then help you with whatever you were supposed to discover (which we already knew) so you could trust me more. Do you understand now? We get to make you tell us the rest of your secrets and we get to save Hope Madden in the process. You should have seen our reactions when we found out about her.”

“So you used us.”

“You can say that, yes. But don’t go hurting because of it. You know our priorities.”

“You know a girl died in there, right?”

Burton frowned. “What do you mean a girl died?”

“There was another woman in that house. She died. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” The surprise on Burton’s face told Devin the answer. He scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“The decision to put you in that neighborhood was a calculated one.”

“Well, your calculations were wrong! Someone died in that house all because the authorities thought they could postpone the rescue!”

“We didn’t know about the other girl.”

“Well, you could have if you just rescued them the moment you found out! Instead, you used the opportunity to play your cards right. But that didn’t go well, did it? Because I disappeared. And why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you just tell me what you were planning?”

Burton shrugged. “I don’t think you would be a very good actor.” When Devin was about to burst out, Burton stood up with both hands held up. “Look, my job is to keep you safe while working undercover. I knew there would be liabilities when I took this job. You should have thought the same when you stole from the mob.”

“If you were trying to save my life, then why did you let a gunman almost kill me?”

“When?” Burton asked sarcastically. “You’ve been around places, you know.”

“When we went back to the apartment.”

“I didn’t know you’d be stupid enough to go back. And they wanted to look through your apartment for any traces of you or your secrets.”

Devin suddenly remembered the key in the sugar container but there was no way he would tell Burton. Not after everything the man had put him through.

Burton’s phone rang and he answered it right away. Devin’s eyes went to the gun on the table but Burton was fast to grab it and holster. “We’re on our way.” He hung up and looked at Devin. “Let’s go. They’re here.”

“What about—”

“Someone’s going to take care of the bodies if that’s your concern. We need to get you to safety first. And we have your duffel bag in the car. Let’s go. Move it, Frye.”

“Wait, just one more question.”

“What? You’re going to ask if we are going to kill you too? Trust me, I want to do that, but I have a job to keep.”

He ignored Burton’s remark and said, “Why did you kill Carl?”

It was time for Burton to frown once more. “We didn’t. He killed himself. That’s what the records say.”

Devin shook his head. “He didn’t. Someone else drove out using his patrol car before we found him hanging a few feet above his garage floor.”

Burton seemed to be less in a hurry to leave now. “We didn’t know of anyone else other than you and that girl being inside that house.”

Devin suddenly had a bad feeling. “Someone else was inside that house. He drove the patrol car out to dispose of the body of the dead girl I was talking about earlier.”

As he looked at Burton’s expression, Devin ran his fingers through his hair. “You mean to tell me there was a first killer? What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?”

Devin was suddenly flying to the door. “We have to go now!”

“Frye! I have orders! You can’t just—”

Devin whirled around to face Burton with purposeful eyes. “If you did not send for someone to kill Carl, then someone else did. And if it was not my bad guy, then it was Hope’s bad guy.”

XXVII. Victims

“What do you mean?” Hope asked in alarm.

The younger agent walked to the window and looked outside while the older one talked. “If Frye told you more than he should, your life is also on the line. Whoever is after him will think you know more.”

Hope shook her head. “But he didn’t tell me anything about the case. He told me about his history, but nothing specific. He was careful not to reveal so much because of the case.”

As the older agent continued to stare at her with doubt, the younger one’s phone started ringing. Hope and the old agent turned their heads to look at him as he answered and listened. The call lasted for more than a minute and when it was done, he replaced his phone in his coat pocket. “They got him,” he said to his partner and turned to Hope with a skeptical look. “They told us to keep watch over her.”

“Wait, what’s going on? Keep watch of me? They got who?” Alarm was building up inside her.

“We have Devin Frye and he’s safe.”

Her eyes watered with relief but there was so much doubt. What if these guys were just like Burton? What if they were playing with her?

“But they told us that you might be in danger,” the younger agent added.

Her head snapped at him with surprise. She was not sure if she could trust them anymore. “From whom? You?”

The older agent stepped toward her and she held out her hand which was still hooked to the IV. “Don’t come near me or I’ll scream.”

“Relax, Miss Madden, we are the good guys here. Burton called us.”

“But Burton is—”

“I will bet everything—including my life—that Burton doesn’t mean any harm. He was just doing his job.”

“I don’t understand—”

“We don’t expect you to understand. What we want you to tell us though,” said the younger one, “is why they think—Devin thinks—that someone else is still after you, someone we are not aware of.”

Hope frowned. “Can you explain what’s going on? Is Devin really alright?”

“He is. He is back under our protection and Burton made sure of that. But he thinks someone other than the mob is after you.” When she continued to look at him with confusion, he continued, “None of us—the mob or the FBI—was responsible of Carl Briggs’ death.”

It took her more than ten seconds to finally process what he was trying to say. And then her heart started beating. Denial crept in fast. “No. You guys killed him. The gunman who came after us killed Carl.”

The older agent shook his head. “We know the people working for us and the mob. The guy Devin killed was sent by the mob. But none of us sent for Briggs. We had other plans for him and one of them is putting him behind bars for life. We had no reasons to kill him.”

The younger agent turned to his partner. “Burton said someone else drove off with Briggs’ patrol car the night he died.”

“We thought he was the same guy who tried to kill us,” Hope spoke.

The older agent was frowning. “We thought he killed himself.” He turned to Hope and asked once more, “Do you know anyone who would want you other than the mob?”

Hope had thought of that when everything was in a blur that night they escaped. “The only thing I can come up with is that Carl had other friends who wanted revenge.” Her eyes turned to the agent. “If it was not the mob, then who was it?”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with Frye or the case we are working on,” the old agent answered.

His partner looked at Hope, his eyes strong and serious. “You—or Carl Briggs—have your own enemies, Miss Madden.”

---

The more he thought of the unfortunate events that had happened to him and Hope, Devin couldn’t help but think that the two of them were no more than victims. They were just two small pieces on a chessboard. Different sides working for their own gains and none really cared what happened to the smaller pieces as long as the end game was in their favor. The two of them had no idea what was going on or who were playing the games. They were just told what they needed to know and they were expected to play their part. None of them was ready for all the fighting and the guns.

They were merely victims who needed to stay alive because the game was not over yet. They never did anything right from the moment they escaped. Other people were doing the saving all along. Other people were doing the killings all along. Other people were playing the game for them.

He wondered if there was anything they could do that the players wouldn’t know—if they could even have their normal lives back.

Everything was just a series of events, a rollercoaster ride that ended up exhausting them. They were not in control of everything. All they did was join the ride.

“What are these?” Burton asked as he took a look at the notebook Devin threw.

“It’s Carl’s list of contacts. I tried to call them before but none of them gave any clues as to what that guy was really up to. We believe that he has these contacts to pull off a lot of things. He even managed to make the authorities believe that the body in that barrel found in a storage space was Hope herself. He couldn’t have just pulled it off on his own, right? He has other contacts, other people whom he could have paid or threatened or used. He was capable of that and I believe that it was because of that list.”

“If the people in this list really knew him, then they must know by now that he is dead.”

“I know. As a matter of fact, one of them knew it was not Carl who was calling him when I tried to call the number. And that happened even before the news of Carl being found in his home broke out. It could only mean two things: he really knew Carl to recognize it was not his voice or he was the one who sent for Carl to be killed.”

“Fuck.” Burton shook his head as he flipped through the pages. They were driving fast back to the hospital with another agent doing the driving. “He was more than just one sick bastard.”

“It seemed that everything was planned. The body in the barrel, the DNA result—everything. But Carl was just another useless piece on the board. Hope’s abduction was premeditated by someone else.”

“Your imagination is running way ahead of you, Frye,” Burton uttered. “I don’t like this. We don’t need this kind of complication. Your girl might not be in real danger, you know. Briggs was the one who got killed, not her. If the killer wanted her dead, then she would have been dead the same time Briggs died. Let’s hand this over to another team to work on. You are my priority at the moment—”

“The fuck I am!” He burst out, leaning over to grab Burton’s shirt collar. “Don’t tell me whether or not the killer was after Carl alone or not. What I think happened is that the killer went out for a drive to dispose of the other girl’s dead body. He went back thinking Hope and Samantha were safely chained in her rooms only to find out that they were gone. No one really knows what that killer had in mind. You should check on Samantha and her parents as well.” He checked if Burton knew about Samantha and by the look on his face, he did. So it was only Patty they didn’t know about and it angered him even more. “I say you work on this case and I will reconsider trusting you once again.”

Burton turned his head toward Devin with a sigh. “You really do like this girl, don’t you?”

“What I like is to know that she—including Samantha—will be safe for a very long time. And right now, I don’t believe she can live that long if you guys don’t—”

“Relax,” Burton said, shoving his hand away. “I already told the agents who are with her to stay and watch over her. Another one is on his way to Samantha’s house. But this might not be for long because we haven’t received any reports of any threats. They, especially Hope, had only been in danger because of you. What happened to Briggs might not be entirely connected to the girls.” He returned his attention back on the notebook and fished for his phone. “But since these numbers are quite intriguing, why don’t we start making calls?”

Devin was almost ready to jump out of the car. They had reached the hospital.

“Don’t get out. We’re living in ten minutes,” Burton ordered as he started to dial a number.

“Call the last number,” he ordered Burton as the car entered the hospital parking lot.

“Relax. Two of our best agents are with her,” Burton said. He handed the driver the notebook and added, “While we’re doing our little investigation, pitch these numbers to our tech and have them checked in the system. Cross-match them to names related to Carl Briggs, Samantha Harlow and Hope Madden.” The driver did not say a word but he picked up his own phone to call someone about the list of numbers. All Devin could do was scoff in disbelief. These guys knew Samantha’s name and they did not even do anything to help the little girl. “And stay in the car, Frye. You’re not getting out. I want this case over with tonight and then you’re off to your new home,” he said to Devin before he placed the phone against his ear.

---

The two agents decided to talk to the medical professionals that were directly working on Hope’s case.

“They want to make sure that no one other than the nurses and doctors can come in here,” her mother explained, her brows knitted with worry. “I can’t believe this is happening after everything. We just found you and now this?!”

Hope could not give an answer. She was full of questions herself. Who would want her dead? The only thing she could think of were the list of contacts she and Devin found. Carl had been in contact with people who obviously didn’t like him. One or more of them might think that she knew something.

But she had never had someone after her other than the people who were after Devin and that was for certain. No one had showed up for her or Samantha . It was all about Devin all along. She wondered if the FBI or Devin were just overthinking things. Maybe she was safe after all. Maybe it was Carl who had enemies. Maybe that man who took off with Carl’s patrol car took off for good because his job was done. He had killed Carl and his job was over. He never came back, did he?

The only thing she was relieved of at the moment was the fact that someone was on his way to guard Samantha and her family.

Her mother fell silent and the look she gave Hope was one of questions. She knew her mother wanted to know what really happened to her—what she really went through and why the authorities think that she may still be in danger. But she could not let her mother share the pain she had been through. She’d keep the horrors to herself.

As they waited for the two agents to return, her mother sat on the chair beside her bed, her hands on her face. This was too much for her, Hope thought. But she couldn’t do anything. She wished Devin would come and give her even just a bit of the answers she wanted. Where had he been? How did he survive? Was Burton really the good guy? Why did he think she was still in danger?

She wanted him to come and argue with her because she desperately needed someone who knew everything that had happened.

Her thoughts were put to a halt by the sudden ringing of a phone. Her mother stirred and removed her hands from her face. Hope watched her mother walk to her bag and rummaged the contents. She took out one phone, and then another, and then another.

“You still have a lot of phones?” she asked conversationally.

Her mother sighed and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “You have no idea,” Gina Madden said when she finally found the ringing phone. Hope watched as her mother’s face turned serious and her brows fused in a frown. “I have to get this. I’ll be right back,” she stated in a deadpan voice without a glance at Hope and before she knew it, her mother was out the door.

XXVIII. Unwanted Truth

The nurse came in with a tray and he smiled at her as he looked at her dripping IV. “Good evening, Miss Madden. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” she answered lazily. “Where’s my mother?”

“I saw her walk out a few minutes ago. She’ll be back soon, don’t worry,” he said, placing the tray beside her bed.

“What’s that?” she asked when she saw him lift a syringe.

“This will help you sleep,” he answered, flicking the syringe with one finger to get rid of the bubbles.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she said, taking her hand away from him when he tried to reach for it. “I feel fine.”

The glitter in his eyes caused her to panic. She had seen that look many times on Carl. It was a look of someone who didn’t have remorse, someone with a purpose.

“You need to relax, Miss Madden. You’ve been through a lot of stress. This med will help you,” he tried to reassure her, going for her hand again.

“No,” she cried out. “Get out of my room.”

Anger flashed across the nurse’s eyes and before Hope could scream for help, his strong hand covered her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed over her. “You’ve been making this difficult for me, bitch.”

Hope’s eyes widened. The man had pinned her down on the bed. She tried to kick him but that did not work. Her good hand went to her other hand and she pulled on her IV. Blood was oozing out of her punctured skin but that was the least of her concern.

The man hovering above her was intent on killing her one way or the other.

---

Devin was restless inside the car. Burton had been cursing his phone for the last few minutes. The person he was trying to call picked up on their first try but did not say a word. On their second attempt, the call was rejected.

“I’m missing something,” Burton murmured.

“What?”

“There’s something about the first call that I can’t point out,” he said with impatience. His eyes turned to the other agent behind the wheel. “Where are we on the numbers?”

“They’re still running them,” the agent answered.

“What was it about the first call?” Devin asked Burton.

“I told you, I can’t point it out.”

“We better get inside the hospital. You better get inside and check if she’s all right.”

Burton was not hearing him. The man was obviously trying to decode whatever it was that was bothering him. Devin was about ready to jump out of the car and go to Hope when Burton finally cursed out loud, unbuckling his seatbelt in haste.

“What is it?” Devin demanded.

“The paging system. Shit!” He was already opening the door. “It’s the hospital paging system I heard in the background. The suspect is inside!” He stopped Devin when he made a move to get out of the car. “You stay right here. James, call Brighton and Malik. Tell them not to leave Madden’s room!” And then he was running toward the hospital entrance.

“You heard him. Don’t get out,” the driver told Devin as he dialed on his phone. “You may think you can help, but you won’t. Let us handle this for once.”

Devin didn’t know how to answer that one. He knew he was no good when it came to shooting and fist fights. The man was right. He should let Burton and the others handle this one. 

---

The hand was no longer covering her mouth. It was now around her throat and Hope strained for breath. She could feel the veins on her neck and temple engorging with the pressure.

A few more seconds and the darkness would consume her. Her lungs would give up and they would not find the need for oxygen. Her brain would cease to function along with her heart. Ironic how things could end this way for her, she thought. Just as when she was safe from Carl’s madness, from Devin’s sadistic enemies. Just as when she was ready to face the aftermath of what she had been through, this happened.

She could hear the humming sound of blood in her ears. The even breathing of her killer was no longer audible. Her hands were scratching his hand but they were getting frail. The light on the ceiling was starting to get dimmer.

And then the pressure was gone. The clamping on her throat eased and her lungs urged her throat to gasp in air.

The air came, filled her lungs. But it needed more. Hope gasped for more air as she wailed her arms to fend off any attacks.

Her senses came back and she heard the commotion. The two agents were pinning her attacker face down on the floor, holding his hands behind his back.

“Take him out of here now,” she heard the familiar voice. The two agents pulled the man up and dragged him out of the room.

Burton.

Hope’s eyes widened and she pushed herself up on the bed, against the headboard. She saw Burton walk toward her, his face full of concern. “You okay?”

“Stay away from me,” she choked out before she coughed.

Burton opened his mouth to say something but her mother and a group of nurses and doctors were already storming inside.

“Hope! Oh my god! What happened?! Who are you?!” she demanded at Burton, stepping closer to Hope. She went to her bag, opened it and took out a gun. “You stay away from my daughter! All of you!” she shouted, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Ma’am, we just saved your daughter’s life,” Burton said calmly, holding up his hands before him. “Please put down the gun.”

“I left my daughter for just a few minutes and this happens! You can’t blame me if I don’t trust any of you!” she said, swinging the gun toward Burton, the nurses, and the doctors.

“We just captured the man who tried to kill your daughter,” Burton said calmly. “If you let me, I have a badge inside my jacket. I will show it to you.”

Hope looked at her mother with concern. Where did she get her gun? She wanted to tell her that everything was okay, but because of her history with Burton, she was not sure either. She watched her mother nod once and Burton slowly reached inside his jacket. When his hands reappeared, he was holding his badge. “I am with the FBI.”

“Oh my god,” Gina Madden said, her voice shaking. “I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

“Just put the gun down, Ma’am, and we’ll talk,” Burton tried again. Gina Madden did not let go of her gun but she put it down.

“What happened? I want to know what happened,” Gina Madden demanded. “I was gone for just a few minutes and things dramatically progressed this way! Where are those agents when we needed them? When my daughter needed them?!”

“Miss Madden, give me the gun and we’ll talk,” Burton said slowly.

Hope turned to her mother. She was tired and she wanted this to be over with, but she couldn’t tell her mother to give the gun to Burton.

“Everyone, out of the room,” Burton ordered the nurses and doctors and they immediately complied.

“Miss Madden, give me the gun. The killer is now being driven to the station. The danger is over.”

Then his phone rang. Everyone held their breath. Gina Madden continued to cry but was not making any move to give Burton the gun. Hope was motionless in her bed.

Burton looked like he was assessing the situation and he finally sighed. “I am going to answer this call, okay? Put the gun down on the table, Miss Madden.”

“Not gonna happen until I am certain Hope is out of any danger. I don’t trust anyone right now.”

Burton did not answer but he slowly reached for his phone. He tapped it and placed it against his ear.

Hope saw the change on his face as he listened to whoever was on the other line.

---

“Holy shit, this can’t be real,” the driver muttered as he looked at his phone.

“What is it?” Devin demanded.

But the man did not answer him. Instead, he hastily dialed another number and waited for an answer with the phone firmly set against his ear. Devin waited in anticipation, holding on to the headrest of the passenger seat. The doors were locked so he had no other choice but to stay inside.

“Burton, the result just came in. We’ve checked the numbers and one of them belongs to someone who is directly connected to Hope Madden.”

Devin’s heart started pumping against his chest.

---

Burton did not utter a word until the phone call was over. His eyes darted toward Hope and back to her mother.

“Miss Madden, I want you to put the gun down now. This is an order,” he said firmly, his voice deadly serious.

Her mother shook her head. “Not until you can prove to me that my daughter is safe.”

“She won’t be safe unless you put that gun down. Let us talk this out. The man we have in custody is now outside the hospital. He is far away from you and your daughter. He is not gonna harm anyone anymore.”

But Gina Madden shook her head and held the gun up and pointed at Burton. “I don’t trust you. I haven’t seen you until now. Why would I do what you say? Who was that who called you?”

“It was one of the agents who have your daughter’s attacker. They just called to report that they are on their way to the station.”

Hope finally found her voice and said, “Mom, put down the gun.”

“How can you be stupid, Hope? We don’t know this man! He just popped in. He can kill us both—”

She was not able to finish her sentence because Burton had swiftly moved toward her and seconds later, she was on the floor, the gun now in Burton’s hands.

Hope started to panic. She moved to punch the alarm but Burton’s words stopped her. “Georgina Madden, you are under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder.”

“What?! What are you saying? Let go of me! Hope, call the nurses. Call for help!” her mother shouted.

“Go ahead, Hope, call for help. But since your mother just tried to kill you, you might want to keep this quiet.”

“What are you talking about?” Hope demanded.

Burton did not answer. He lifted Gina Madden off the floor and handcuffed her hands behind her back. “What do you think are you doing?! I did not do anything! Hope, call for help now!”

Burton threw Gina Madden on the chair and said, “Stay still while we wait for the police to pick you up.”

“Hope, call for help now before he kills us!”

But Hope couldn’t move. She felt like she was watching a horrible movie with horrible actors.

Burton was working on his phone and he looked at Hope. “Remember that list of contacts you and Devin found in Briggs’ house?”

Hope just stared at him but did not say anything.

“This number right here is one of them,” he said, holding up his phone. “I am going to call it now.” He was looking straight at Hope’s eyes as he placed the phone against his ear while holding her mother’s gun with the other hand.

The ringing came from somewhere and Hope’s eyes widened in disbelief. She turned to her mother agape with horror, her eyes welling up with tears. Gina Madden was shaking her head as Burton walked toward her and grabbed the phone from her jeans pocket. “He’s lying. Hope, don’t believe them. I am being framed! That is not my phone! Someone left it in my bag! I was out to take it to the security of the hospital minutes ago!”

Burton cancelled the call and the ringing stopped. He placed her mother’s phone on the table beside the bed. Hope looked at the phone for a few seconds. It was the same phone she took outside minutes ago.

She wondered why she couldn’t believe her own mother. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t believe anything right now. The tears just fell out of her eyes and she moved even further against the headboard, her knees lifting up to protect her. She hugged her legs as she continued to stare at her mother in disbelief.

“Hope…” her mother called out desperately.

Hope’s jaw clenched. And her memories started to come back, the pieces falling into place like magnets finding their perfect match. Hope’s breathing became ragged as the reality dawned on her. “You…” she tried to speak but the word barely escaped her throat. She gulped and tried again, her tears blurring her mother’s form sitting on the chair with her hands cuffed behind her back. “You…you knew about the change of scene before I did,” she said in a shaky voice. “They told you about the kidnapping scene the day before I knew,” she added, her voice getting stronger.

Gina Madden frantically shook her head. Burton was standing beside her mother, watching and listening. “No. There are other people who knew about it—other people responsible for the taping that day!”

“But they don’t know about my locket,” Hope cried out. “Very few people knew about it.” She could still feel her necklace around her neck and it seemed to be getting heavier by the second. “You placed an imitation in that barrel, didn’t you? Or was it Carl?!” she almost screamed as anger consumed her. She could remember some nights she would hear Carl talking to someone on the phone and she wondered now if one of those calls were from her own mother. She could feel something quench her heart and she stifled a moan to control the pain but it only spiraled down to her fingertips and she started shaking. “Why? Why did you do it? Why did you want me dead?” she asked the questions while gasping for air. A part of her wanted Burton to take her away from the room, far away where no one knew her. Better yet, she could grab the gun and shoot herself. She bit on her lips to keep from crying out loud and she tasted blood.

“You were never meant to die.”

Hope stopped breathing. Her body stilled. The shaking paused for a while. If it were a movie, someone had pushed the pause button.

Her mother’s voice had completely changed. She looked up and saw that Gina Madden was no longer crying. Her lips were no longer shaking but one corner was tugged upward in a lopsided grin.

Hope felt the breath being snatched out of her chest as she stared at her mother’s angry eyes.

“You were never meant to die, Hope. I just needed you to disappear for good.”

The act was over. It seemed that her mother was finally ready to talk.

Hope didn’t think she wanted the truth after all.

XXIX. A Bucket of Ice

“I was not supposed to die?” Hope asked slowly, her whole being still trying to deny the turn of events.

Georgina Madden’s eyebrow arched slightly, her eyes completely dry now. The worry and fear Hope had seen earlier were suddenly gone. They were now replaced with an unexplainable anger—anger toward Hope. And all the while she thought she was a good actress. Now she knew her mother was even better.

Burton seemed uncomfortable as he shifted his weight to one foot, but he did not say a word. He still held the gun in his hand as if he expected Gina Madden to jump out of the chair and attack Hope. She also saw from the corner of her eye that he checked his watch, probably wondering where the police were. She wanted to tell him to just take her mother himself away from here, away from her, whether it was his job or not. She didn’t care. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to shut herself away from everyone.

Her mother’s dark hair was completely askew, out of its carefully molded display. Hope knew by the look on her face that she had more to say.

She didn’t want to hear anything from the woman. She wasn’t sure if she could handle it. Everything Carl had done to her, everything she had endured during her stay with Devin’s enemies, could never be compared to the pain she was feeling that very moment. It was one thing to know that people you never knew could do so much damage on your whole being and it was another to realize that the person you held dear the most—the person who had been your pillar of strength—was the very same person responsible for all the horrors you’ve been through.

There was only one question that kept running around her mind right now: What could she have done to push her mother to do all those things?

Her mother knew her well and she read the question on Hope’s face without words.

“I am no murderer, Hope,” Gina Madden said, rolling her eyes. “But I am no saint either so don’t look at me like you can’t believe what you are seeing. It makes me hate you even more.”

“Don’t say anything more. I don’t want to hear anything from you again,” Hope said, shaking her head. “You take her away from here, please,” she begged Burton.

“Why? Why would I keep silent now that everything’s out in the open? Sooner or later, everyone will be aware of what I have done, right? And I did them because of you, you ungrateful bitch.”

Hope felt a blow right in her gut. How could her mother say such things?

Her mother tilted her head to the side as if studying Hope hunched on her bed. “You must think I hate you so much. Well, I do. I did everything for you from the moment you were conceived. I sacrificed a lot just to keep you alive after that bastard of a father of yours went AWOL. I helped you achieve your dreams and I did not get anything in return!”

“I tried to give you everything you have ever wanted!” Hope cried out, the tears streaming down her face again.

“But not enough!” Her mother screamed back. “You think I didn’t know about the secret account you created? You think I didn’t know that you had been hiding money from me? I was not stupid to not realize that sooner you’ll find no use of me anymore and I’d end up penniless while you live your dream!” Gina Madden’s eyes were rounded with fury now and a tear dropped from one eye as she chuckled bitterly and angrily.

“So this is all about money? Fucking money?!” She asked aloud, gripping the comforter harder as she tried to contain her own anger.

“Of course! Why else would I have put up with all your whims if not for money?! Your dreams were my dreams! Your money was my money!” Gina Madden blinked the tears of anger from her eyes with a sneer.

“And all the while I thought you did it for the attention. The media had been around you for years since I disappeared.”

“Don’t be pathetic. I only wanted the money. You were putting aside a lot of it for your own. And we had a contract, remember? I was your manager after all. We had a joint account. I had to make a move before you decide to ditch me.”

“I would never have done that to you of all people,” Hope choked out. “I was saving for both of us!”

“Don’t try giving excuses!” her mother’s eyes were almost popping out of their sockets now. She was mad. She was crazy! “And I would not have hurt you of all people, my dear. That’s why I had that bastard take you away, not kill you. Well, not until later, that is.”

“Why?” she asked, looking her mother in the eyes. And then realization struck her. “My death means more money. That’s why you led them to believe that I was the one in that barrel. My life insurance is a bigger catch. And when I resurfaced, your plans went awry and you had to kill me for real.”

Gina Madden scoffed. “I had always thought you were smart for your age. You’re right. When that barrel was discovered, Carl called me to brag about that previous victim of his. That bastard even threatened me to expose everything I had done if I did not give him a share of the fortune I gained because of your disappearance. We came up with a plan to finally make people believe you are dead. Ten years was enough to close your hopeless case. We had people plant the necklace and your very own DNA in that barrel.”

“But you changed your mind. Killing me was much better so you had Carl killed because you couldn’t risk getting caught. And you couldn’t share the money.”

Her mother nodded. “He was being such a nuisance, calling me every now and then whenever he saw me on TV. I had to get rid of him before he could do something stupid.”

“But I escaped.”

Another scoff from Gina Madden. “That was never part of the plan. The man I hired was surprised to see a dead body when he killed Carl so he decided to get rid of that first before he killed you. You were gone by the time he returned.” Gina Madden sighed dramatically. “It would have been a perfect picture if he succeeded. Carl killing you and himself after. A tragic ending for a kidnapped superstar. No one would have thought I was behind everything. I was supposed to live my life peacefully with the money I helped you make. I deserve it after the years I endured raising you. I deserve it!”

Hope felt like a bucket of ice was poured down on her. She was getting numb. Her body was refusing to feel anything. She could no longer hear the words coming out of her mother’s face. Her eyes closed, but the tears continued streaming down her cheeks. 

Burton finally stepped in and his voice was a hum through her ears. Whatever he was saying though was not stopping Gina Madden with her mad screaming.

“You placed your own daughter in the hands of the devil,” Hope said in a deadpan voice. That silenced Burton and her mother. “I wish you just had me killed. I went through hell because of you! Can you imagine what I had been through? The horrors I had to face every night that sick man would crawl on my bed?!” Suddenly, the anger inside her surged up and she faced the woman Gina Madden had become. “You should have just killed me the day you realized you were done with me!” Her mother just blinked and smiled wryly. “You were the only reason I endured the years I spent chained in that house! Your hope was my strength! You don’t know how much the thoughts of killing myself came to me. While you were spending your fortune, I was swallowing the horrors of my day, praying one day I’d be back home. To you. To the one person I depended on, to the only woman who showed me how it was to be strong!”

Hope’s teeth were chattering with so much fury as she looked at the woman across from her. Gina Madden was unmoved. Someone else had consumed her and Hope didn’t know what everything had started. But it was useless to wonder about how her mother had endured the years pretending to love her only daughter.

“Take her away before I do something, please,” she begged Burton. “I don’t want to see her again.”

Burton’s phone rang and he said, “No need to wait any longer. They are here, Miss Madden. So, Georgina Madden, if you please…stand up and let me read your rights. I don’t know about you, but I am willing to testify against you ten times if it would mean you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison. You know that prisons have their own moral standards that place them in their respective ranks, right? And do you know who have the lowest rank—the one with the most stinky life in prison?” Hope was no longer listening. She was staring at her own bruised feet, a tear at the edge of one lid. “You got that right,” Burton continued. “Child offenders. You have to be strong from now on because your inmates will definitely hate your record.”

She did not know when they exited the room and when she was finally alone. She had realized just a few minutes ago that she had been alone even before that day Carl drove off with her in the backseat.

She had really been alone all along.

---

Devin was in shock with what he had found out.

He wanted to be by her side at the moment but he knew it was not possible.

Georgina Madden had been turned over to the authorities and she would have her own hell to face from now on.

Burton seemed greatly affected as Devin. The man had his own children and Devin was certain he was thinking about them after his encounter with Gina Madden. Doing something against people who are capable of evil is one thing. Doing something to a child, let alone your own, was another. It was unforgivable.

When they left the hospital with the media in a rage outside the gates, Devin was convinced that Gina Madden was, in her own ways, sick in her mind.

When they dropped by Devin’s old apartment upon his request, Burton was silent and even let him out on his own to retrieve the key he had hidden in the sugar container. No one questioned him about it. They could demand for it, even force it out of his hands, but no one mentioned such thing. They all knew the trial was underway and the only way Devin could have a chance of a better life was to surrender the files in due course. They contained the every record of all transactions by the mob that the former firm he was working for had been working on to make all illegal legal. Once he thought that stealing them after uncovering the secret of the firm and the mob may have been a bad move, but he could not say the same thing now. If he turned a blind eye on those files, Hope might still be chained to a wall or worse. Yes, he lost his family in the process and he would pay for that for the rest of his life.

He felt for the key inside his pocket. He’d do the right thing and make good of his actions.

He looked out the window and into the night scenes passing fast before his eyes. He saw people and lights from cars and establishments, all with lives of their own. He could not say what kind of complications they might have gone through. For all he knew, they were all just like him. For all he knew, he was just one of the many who were passing through life with a baggage full of skeletons and pain.

Hope’s face flashed across his mind. She may still be in danger because of him. Burton had promised to keep tabs on her until the trial was over.

Until then, Hope had to be strong. For now, she was on her own again. She had her own battle to fight and a great part of that was herself.

She had to be strong.

XXX. The Rightful Epilogue

“I don’t think I can ever forgive her,” she honestly said to the man sitting before her.

Dr. Kellerman’s wrinkled eyes peered at her through the upper rims of his eyeglasses. “No one asked you to forgive, Hope.”

She nodded. She knew that. But in some ways, society had bored into the minds of the people that forgiveness comes after a bad deed. People would always have the thoughts of forgiveness at the back of their minds despite the hate, whether or not they intend to give it. It was as if forgiveness is a must. Forgive and you shall live a peaceful life.

“Forgiveness is not something you force yourself to give. Like love, it comes suddenly and when that comes—if it will—you’ll know. But know that it is not a requirement,” Dr. Kellerman added.

She kept silent. She had never seen her mother after Gina Madden was sent to prison for one count of murder, kidnapping and attempted murder. She could no longer feel the overwhelming anger toward the woman. There was just emptiness. And for most people, it was the worst.

“How’s school?” Dr. Kellerman asked.

She smiled at the change of subject. “Better than last year. I am getting the hang of it.”

“This is a small town. People know each other and you were a new face.”

“Come on, they know who I am,” she said. “My past makes people uneasy around me, plus the fact that I am the oldest student. It’s not every day you get to see a thirty-year-old high school student, you know,” she added with a tinge of amusement.

“But you like it here.” It was not a question but an observation.

She thought about it, shrugged, and nodded. “Better than the big city. I like the atmosphere. Not a lot of stress.” A silence fell between them, the kind that was serene and calm. “I made some friends,” she spoke with a smile.

Dr. Kellerman was obviously pleased because he raised both eyebrows at her with a smile. He had been trying to encourage her to make friends for more than a year now. “So you did. At last. How are they?”

“Good. One of them is an old man who works at a shelter I volunteer in. The other is a homeless man who frequents the shelter.”

“I am guessing he is old too.”

“Of course. He could barely eat on his own.”

“Too old to hurt you?”

She shrugged. “Sure. And I have another friend. His name is Tommy.”

“Is he frail too?”

“At first, yes. He’s living with me.” Dr. Kellerman waited patiently for her explanation. “I found him wandering around outside my bungalow last week. He has black fur and a white patch around the left eye.”

The doctor smiled. “A puppy?”

“Kitten. Never liked dogs.”

“When do you think you can learn to deal with people who are not fifty years older than you and don’t have any furs?”

“I don’t know. Another five years? I deal with a bunch of school kids at school. And teachers as well—you know I am even older than some of them.”

“But not to the point that you can trust them to hang out with them knowing they are capable of hurting you one way or the other but you still do because you know they will not do the same things Carl and your mother did to you.”

“It takes some time,” she answered with full honesty.

Dr. Kellerman just nodded. “At least I know the reason why you forced a retired psychiatrist to take your case.”

“I did not force you. And admit it—you missed working.”

He just sighed and uncrossed his legs, an indication that their session was almost over. “How are Patty’s parents?”

She smiled but she felt a lump in her throat like she always did whenever she remembered Patty. “They called me yesterday. They are planning to visit.”

“Let me know how that goes.”

“Sure.”

The doctor slapped his knees and sighed. The session was over. “My dear wife baked an awesome apple pie. Wanna try a piece?”

“I would love to,” she answered, standing up. “But I need to run some errands. Unlike you, I live alone and have to do everything on my own.”

She had never accepted any offers to seat with the doctor and his wife. Maybe soon, she thought as she gathered her things. One step at a time as what Dr. Kellerman had said before.

One step at a time.

---

She went to the only supermarket around town and bought what she needed. She then rode her bicycle to the nearest coffee shop, one of the three around the same town, to have her own piece of homemade pie and brewed coffee since that seemed to be the only things the place served, and sat outside to enjoy the cool Saturday afternoon. It was the highlight of her week, she thought as she opened her book and immersed herself with Kafka.

Her inner alarm system surged to full alert even before the person took the seat right across from her. She knew she was protected by the number of people around them and the daylight, but she couldn’t control her body’s reaction. Her heart started to hammer and her hand reached for her bag where her Taser was safely hidden.

“I am here to collect a debt long overdue,” the voice said and Hope’s hand paused inside her bag. She looked up to the man facing her across the table. He looked familiar but not at the same time. But she definitely recognized his voice. “You promised to buy me coffee, remember?” he asked with a smile, his eyes very much familiar.

It took her a while to find her voice and when she did, she said, “Your nose changed.”

“Had to be done. My former face was almost the same level as the man on NSA’s most wanted list. Don’t you like it?”

“It doesn’t become you.”

He just smiled and continued looking at her. “So,” he said, leaning against the chair. “Coffee?”

“I don’t have that much money as you might have thought before.”

“Come on. I know you have enough to spend a few cents for a struggling lawyer.”

Hope raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Lawyer?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“A struggling one?”

“Yeah,” he answered again. “I just moved into town, you know. I don’t have a single client yet.”

“Moved into town? I thought you were just passing by.”

“I like this town. Quiet and…just quiet.”

“I thought you must be in some unknown country by now.”

“I have been for some time, actually. Didn’t like the weather. So, coffee?”

She couldn’t take her eyes away from his clean-shaven face and laughing eyes. He had gained some weight too. His nose was a bit distracting but she could get used to it. She finally nodded toward her cup and said, “Just take mine. I told you I am not as rich as you might have thought. And I am still in high school.”

He reached over and slid her cup toward him and she couldn’t help but snort. “I heard you are about to skip to college though. You’ve got recommendations from your teachers.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t think I like the thought of someone looking into my life.”

“I didn’t. Burton did. I just happened to be there when he reported about your safe life.”

She shook her head as she watched him sip from her cup. “You really moved into town?”

“Of course. I thought I should find someone I am familiar with after my fantastic adventures five years ago.”

She had thought before that if the time came that she would meet him again that they would have to talk about the past, answer each other’s questions—the works. But then she realized both of them were okay not talking about it for now. “Glad to know you managed to survive the adventures,” she uttered.

“I did. And I have put a lot of bad ogres behind bars along the way.”

“So I heard. Congratulations.”

He placed the cup on the table and pointed at his nose. “Thus the nose. The ogres hate me even more and now I have to turn into a handsome prince while they keep looking for the frog who threw them in the dungeon. I don’t have that as much leverage over them now as I did five years ago.”

Hope chuckled. “Don’t worry. I guess you’ll live another five years.”

He smiled as he studied her from across the table. “You changed your hair. Red suits you well. The black made you look very pale. The blond one was just a mess.”

“I like it too,” she said, fingering her long, colored tresses. She did not fight when he reached over for her pie as well and took a bite without a word. “You know, my psychiatrist will be very glad to know about you.”

He frowned as he chewed. “Why?”

“You’re not fifty years older than me and you don’t have furs,” she said mysteriously. “He would love to know about the new lawyer in town. What should I tell him your name is?”

He hastily swallowed the pie and brushed the crumbs off his hands before held out his hand before him over the table. “Sorry for being rude. Lawrence Samuels is the name. And you tell him the first meeting is free of charge. I can do her divorce papers.”

Hope laughingly took his hand, the handshake lingering a bit longer. “He’s a he . And no divorce for him, I guess. His wife’s pie is way better than the one you’re having as I have heard and he loves them to death so he might want to make a will.”

His face crunched up. “Will? It means old clients.”

“You’re a struggling lawyer. You can’t choose your clients.”

He gave a dramatic sigh as he took another bite from his stolen pie.

“Lawrence doesn’t suit you either, the same as your nose.”

“Then what does?”

Hope smiled. “Devin, of course.”

He frowned. “Burton chose that name.”

“How about Lawrence?”

“He picked that one too. After watching a stupid game show.”

“Then Devin it is,” she said.

He shrugged and leaned closer to the table. “Devin for you. Lawrence for others. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“And we still have to go on a barbecue.”

“Deal. I already visited Patty’s parents since you went off the grid and I couldn’t wait.”

“I’ll make it up to you next time. But my shack is still looking really bad where it is.”

She smiled. “We’ll see what we can do about that some time,” she said as she reached over to grabe her cup back and took a sip.

One step at a time, she thought.

Author’s Note

I am a fan of psychological thrillers and mysteries and I will always be. For those of you who have read The Plan, you must know that I write mystery/thrillers. This is the most recent one I came up with and I am glad that most of the readers enjoyed it. I enjoy watching documentaries on crimes (specifically serial killers) and this work has been inspired by the Ohio kidnapping case. As a matter of fact, I dreamed about the Prologue. 

At first I tried to hold it back but then I thought it wouldn’t hurt to publish the first chapter while juggling three other stories but look where we are now! We just reached the Epilogue! And yes, it is WE because this story would not be what it is if not for me and YOU, my readers.

Thank you for all the support you have been giving my other works and this one! See you until my next mystery/thriller! Or my other stories if you enjoy them as well! 

LOVE LOTS,

J.D. Ruiz

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