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I pull Gio with me and crouch in the corner, shivering. I hold Gio close to keep him warm. He’s shivering as well, so I put him on my lap to keep him off the cold floor. He cuddles into me, crying softly about wanting to go home.

My head hurts where I hit it, but after checking, I realize it’s just a bump, no blood. I wrap my arms around Gio and rock him slightly, promising him everything is going to be okay.

We’re there for hours before the steel door opens and one of the gang members tosses in two blankets, two flasks of water, and two cereal bars.

Gio waits for the guy to leave before he gets the cereal bars and water. I fold one of the blankets in half and lay it down on the floor to protect us from the concrete, then pat the spot next to me so Gio can sit. When he’s sitting, I cover us with the other blanket, huddling close to stay warm. We eat and drink in silence.

“Don’t drink all your water,” I whisper. “We don’t know when they’ll bring us more.”

Gio nods and closes his flask, setting it down and cuddling into me.

The sun sets, and if possible, the cell gets even colder. I put Gio back on my lap and wrap us up as much as I can. He starts to cry again, and I do my best to comfort him, but the cell is cold, dark, and uncomfortable.

I spend most of the night whispering to him, trying to get him to be brave and stop crying, scared they will hurt him if he isn’t quiet.

Finally, the light appears through the window. It’s morning. Gio lifts his head and wipes his tear-stained cheeks.

“Gia, I need the bathroom.”

I bite my lip. “Okay, get up for a minute and just stand here,” I say.

I go and bang my hand on the door. “Hey, open up. We need the bathroom.”

I bang again, but there’s no answer. I notice Gio dancing on the spot, and my own bladder pinches in sympathy. Poor kid’s never been in a situation like this. I continue to bang and yell until someone comes to the door.

“What?” he roars.

“We need the bathroom,” I say. “Now.”

There’s a long stretch of silence before the door opens. I’m about to motion to Gio to step through it when the man shoves a bucket into my hands and the door slams shut.

I frown. “Really?” I yell.

I go to the furthest corner and set the bucket down. “You’ll have to pee in that, Gio. I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

Gio blushes and looks away, and I go back to him. “Go on, I won’t look, I promise.”

Unable to hold it in any longer, Gio rushes to the bucket. The telltale sound of a splash and stream fills the cell. Poor guy.

It stops, and he asks quietly, “How do I wash my hands?”

I bite my lip. “We can’t waste our drinking water. We don’t know when they’ll give us more. Just wipe them on your pants for now.”

He comes back to me, his lip quivering. I hold my arms out and rock him to comfort him. We stay like that for a long time as the sun changes the shadows in the room.

Eventually, though, even I need to pee. I can’t hold it any more. I set Gio down, and he turns to look into the corner, and I smile softly. Such a sweet kid.

I pee as best as I can, but I’m outraged that this is how they treat us. Matteo may have kidnapped me, but he didn’t treat me like this. Who the fuck does this Tony guy think he is?

If I could get my hands on him, I can imagine a hundred ways I’d kill him. I go back to Gio, rocking him in my arms again while I plan the death of the gangbanger.

It’s late afternoon when the door opens again, and a man stands in the doorway. “You, woman, you’re coming with me.”

Gio starts to cry. “No, Gia. Don’t leave me.” He sobs, clinging to me.

I stand with Gio, refusing to let him go, but the man looks menacing, so I slowly set him down. He clings to my arms, though, and before I can do anything, the man strides over and backhands Gio.

He falls to the floor with a shriek, and I can’t stop the rage that burns through my body. I kick the man in the groin, and as he doubles over, I uppercut his chin before I give him a solid right hook to the jaw.