As though sensing the turn his thoughts had taken, the woman stepped closer to him, her fingers curling around his and giving a quick squeeze before dropping away again. She’d reached out to him, offered comfort, bit by bit she was accepting her new reality, and he wanted that for her so badly it hurt.
They were all free of Dr. Gardner now. Him and his team, this woman with no name, Rose, Whitney, and Indigo. Theymight still want the scientist dead, but the hold the man had once had on them was weakening by the day.
By the minute.
“If you're still here when the weather is hot enough, maybe you can go swimming with us,” he suggested, and he expected not to get an answer, but the woman gave a slow nod, like she was considering the idea.
As they walked, Thunder continued to talk, and as he talked, he watched the woman. Her eyes were still wide, as though she was overwhelmed trying to take everything in. Since she didn't have any panic attacks, he had to assume that she was overwhelmed in a good way.
The more they walked, the more he noticed her hands.
Each time they stopped when she wanted to get a closer look at something, the way the water sparkled on the stream, the snow piled on the branches of a fir tree, a robin that paused to sing to them, her hands began to move. It was almost as though she was drawing what she was seeing.
Was his girl an artist?
Thunder had been wanting a way to help her communicate with them, and it was clear she wasn't ready to speak yet. They’d offered her an iPad that she could type on, it was even set up to read out what she’d written, but she’d shied away from the idea.
This could be a way to reach her.
At the back of his mind, he couldn’t forget the fact that the woman might have valuable intel on Dr. Gardner, might even know where the man had disappeared to when he’d fled the island. As much as he wanted that intel if it existed, he didn't want it more than he wanted a way to reach this woman.
Wanted a way to connect with her.
When they finished their walk, he was going to play out his hunch and get one of the guys to drive into town and purchase every pencil, paint pot, paintbrush, easel, and canvas they couldfind. If this was a way to draw his girl out of her mind, help her reconnect with the world around her, strengthen the tentative bond that was building between them, then he was going to jump all in with it.
And if it wound up leading her back to her old life and away from him, he’d deal with that when it happened. But right now, bringing some joy to his girl was the only thing he cared about. Sacrificing his own wants was nothing compared to making her smile.
February 28th
6:12 P.M.
As she toweled off her wet hair, Maya realized with a start that she’d been humming.
Humming.
Actually, making a sound.
And not a cry of pain.
Even though she’d kept her screams and begging to herself for a long time now, refusing to give them to Master even though she sometimes got punished for it, the last sounds she’d made were horrible, terrified shrieks that were more animal than human.
Sounds that she never wanted to make again.
Never wanted cause to make again.
If you’d asked her a week ago if she would ever make a sound again, Maya would have emphatically shaken her head. There had been no doubt in her mind that remaining mute was the best choice for her.
Even after she’d been rescued and taken to the mansion, she hadn't intended on opening her mouth and speaking. It was hard to explain because it didn't really make sense, not even to herself, but she had quite literally had zero control over her body and what was done to it for thirteen seemingly endless years. The only things she had been able to control were her mind and voice, and she’d decided to keep both for herself and had been happy with that decision.
Now she felt safe enough to hum.
Some mindless tune, it wasn't really anything at all, and she hadn't even realized she was doing it at first.
There was only one reason she felt safe enough to lower her barriers just a teeny tiny little bit.
That reason was Thunder.
Her body and broken mind had sought comfort from him without any conscious decision on her part, and that seemed to have forged a bond with him. He smiled at her all the time, and she very much liked his smile. He talked to her all the time, too, but he never made her feel like he was disappointed or angry when she didn't speak back. He checked in with her often, while also giving her space, and he encouraged her to participate in the goings on of the house when otherwise she might have just hidden in her room.
