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She spots me and winces. I’m clearly not the boogeyman she expected. But not a welcome sight, either. “H-Hi.”
Whatever relation she might be to Holly, the two clearly aren’t alike. There’s not a malicious bone in this little girl’s body. It makes me wonder how she got wrapped up in this game of Holly’s.
I decide to play nice. “Hello,” I say slowly. “Is that for me?” I nod to the tray of food. As if it’s hopeful, my stomach growls loudly before the girl can even reply to me.
“Y-Yeah. Holly told me to feed you today…”
The girl sets the tray on the floor. With the very tip of her finger, she pokes it and slides it just a little closer to me. She keeps her distance.
When I can reach it, I pull the tray close to me. It’s an effort not to wolf everything down in a single bite, but I make myself go slowly. Everything tastes stale and flavorless, like ashes in my mouth.
Against my stomach’s wishes, I decide that I should save as much of this stuff as I can and spread out eating it. If this is the only thing I get for a few days, I have to make it last.
The little girl just watches me tear the sandwich into neat chunks. Or rather, she watches the bare spot beside me, since she seems too shy or nervous to actually let her eyes rest on me.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
Without looking at me, she surprises me with an answer. “Emily.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
She blinks, glancing at me for a brief moment. “It is?”
I nod. “Mhmm. Why wouldn’t it be?”
She shrugs. “No one says it’s a pretty name.”
“Well, I think it is.” I smile at her, nodding to a spot across from me. “If you have to stay in here while I eat, why don’t you sit down for a little while with me? I promise I won't bite.”
The girl eyes me warily. She’s like a rabbit scurrying around beneath a sky full of hawks. What must her life be like, that she has to contemplate every one of her decisions like this? What kind of monster is Holly to her?
Whatever thought process the girl goes through, she eventually settles on sitting near me. She plants herself a safe foot or so away—carefully out of reach, I notice—with her legs drawn up to her chest so her arms can wrap around her knees.
“You don’t seem like a mean person,” Emily mumbles after a moment. “Holly said you were a terrible person. But she thinks everyone is a terrible person.”
“I hope I’m not a mean person. But everyone has faults.” I give her as gentle of a smile as I can. “Well, maybe not you. You seem like a nice girl?—”
For some reason, something in that makes her jump up. “I gotta go.”
I have no idea what in those few sentences spooked her, but before I can say anything else, she hightails it out of the room. The metallic click of the lock thunks in place behind her and I’m once again left alone.
That’s alright. I got a name out of her. Emily. That’s a start.
* * *
I have a plan now. It feels better than wallowing in misery.
My game plan is this: get Emily to lower her guard and, when I know I’ve got her hooked, convince her to help me escape. Obviously, she’s working under Holly. I don’t think it’s voluntary. What I do think is that, with the right nudge, I can find a way to talk her out of it.
But we have to be sneaky. There are still guards lurking in the hall and I can’t be sure of their motivations or loyalties. And I won’t have a little girl’s life on my hands if they decide to get violent.
My planning to dole out the food across the next few days proves to be the smart choice. Emily doesn’t return until two days after the first tray. By the time she does, I’m feeling like there are knives in my stomach and receding again into memories just to distract from the pain or the terror that I’m doing irreparable harm to my baby.
Then the door opens and I see those huge, terrified eyes again.
I want to cry, but I make myself keep it together and offer her a sunny smile instead. Like the first day, she sets the tray down in front of me and nudges it over. She doesn’t leave, only staring at the spot on the ground near me.
I keep my eyes trained on her. Today’s sandwich is a PB&J, with strawberry jelly. A little more care was put into making this meal, if the taste is anything to go by. I can only wonder what that might mean.
