Mary stays, standing close enough that I can feel her presence even when I don’t look at her.
“How could you let this happen to my mother?”
“I loved my sister,” Mary says, and her voice wavers. “Once the decision was made, there was nothing I could do. If I interfered, they would’ve killed me too. They would’ve killed you.”
I let out a harsh sound that isn’t a laugh.
“John spared you.” Mary steps closer.
“No.” I shake my head. “You spared me because you felt guilty.”
“No.” Her eyes harden. “I love you.”
“Stop.”
She falls silent.
I let her believe there's still a version of me she can reach. I need her distracted. I need her watching my face instead of my hands. I shift in the chair again and test the bracket. If I pull the armrest at the right angle, it will give.
Mary slides the tray closer. “At least eat something.”
I keep my eyes on the plate until hers follow. When her gaze drops, I twist my wrist carefully. The screw shifts slightly.
Mary lowers herself into the chair across from me. “You were out for a long time. The medication was strong.”
“How long?”
She hesitates, and her throat moves as if she has to swallow the answer.
“Two days,” she whispers. “Almost three.”
My mouth goes dry again.
“What did they give me?”
“A strong sedative,” she says carefully. “From one of our doctors. You were hysterical. We had to keep you safe.”
Safe is not the word for drugged and transported and hidden.
“Can I have water?” I ask.
Relief flashes across her face so fast it makes me sick. She wants signs of cooperation.
“Of course,” she says quickly.
The moment she steps out, I yank the armrest hard. The chair groans, and the screw turns another notch. I stop moving the second I hear her footsteps return. I let my shoulders sag and force my breathing to slow.
Mary comes back with a glass of cold water, condensation slicks the outside.
Mary steps close, steadies the glass and brings it to my lips. “Drink slowly.”
I drink carefully, taking small sips while she watches my face. The water tastes clean, and it makes me realize how dehydrated I am.
Mary exhales. “Once this settles, once you see how important this is, you’ll understand.”
I flex my fingers against the armrest again, hiding the motion in the small tremor of my hands. One more screw. One more. Then I'll be free or I'll be dead. Either way, I won’t stay here.
I pull back from her and swallow. “I will never understand any of this.”
