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I stayed in the trunk for what felt like days. It could’ve just been a few hours or maybe weeks. I didn’t know for sure, but I knew the car stopped briefly three times before it stopped completely.

The air was getting thinner, and the ache in my muscles was almost unbearable, along with my growling stomach.

I knew it was time to get out.

It took a while in the darkness to make out what the boy had given me. It was a pocket knife and a packet of gum. I put the pocket knife to use and struggled with the lever on the lock, which seemed to be stuck for some reason. I was panting by the time something came loose, and the trunk snapped open.

I stifled a groan, covering my eyes with the back of my hand as I slowly pulled my sore body out of the car.

I appeared to be in a driveway of sorts in front of an Asian monastery-type building, with a flat roof and wooden carvings. What was this place? Was I still in America?

I sighed as a wash of breeze brushed over the slick sweat sticking to my skin and rustled my hair alive. It felt like I could breathe again.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” A man approached me with a frown. He was dressed in loose black pants and a robe of sorts. Who were these people?

“Lady, are you fine?” he asked, scanning my face. “How did you get in here?”

“The man who rescued people from the farm,” I blurted, my fingers bunching up the sides of my skirt. “I’m here to see him.”

His frown deepened. At first, he looked confused, but then, as if he understood, he waved a hand. “This way.”

My wobbly feet followed him. The place looked like some kind of institute or temple filled with men and women in similar dresses and eerily similar calm attitudes. No one even spared us a glance as we crossed a large courtyard and entered a room on the far end of a corridor.

“Master Akiyama,” the man said politely. “There’s a girl here to see you.”

Akiyama.

Without his mask, I could finally see his face. He was a lot younger than I had thought, possibly in his late thirties, but his brown eyes held more wisdom for his age.

If he was surprised by my presence, he didn’t show it. He simply took in my state and asked, “What are you doing here, Ms. Esteal?”

It felt strange to be addressed by my new name. At the same time, it felt nice to know I was still carrying a part of my father.

I cleared my throat, straightening my spine. “I want to join you. Be like you,” I attempted in a convincing tone.

“And why do you want to join us?” he asked. His tone didn’t change one bit, and his face gave nothing away.

I didn’t even think as I said, “I want to kill the men who hurt my family.” I could feel the nerves twisting in my gut as I waited for his answer.

Not one muscle moved in his face as he said in an even tone, “Then this is not the place for you.” With that, he simply walked away, and the man escorted me out, closing the large wooden gates behind him.

I stood there, staring at the swirling grains on the wood as resolve flooded my veins.

I wasn’t leaving simply because he decided this wasn’t the place for me. I would show him that I belonged just as much as he did.

So I waited outside the gate for the next three days. Rain or shine, I didn’t move. My feet hurt. My muscles cramped more often than I liked. And my stomach grew numb with hunger. But it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

I only survived on the gum the boy gave me to keep my dizziness at bay.

Then one late afternoon, the gate squeaked open, and the sudden motion made me jump. And hope filled my chest when Akiyama walked out, regarding me carefully.

“I told you to leave, child,” Akiyama said as he came to a stop in front of me. “This isn’t the place for you. Go back to your sisters.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I said defiantly, only it came out weak, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be stronger one day.

He stared dead straight into my eyes. “I’ll ask again—why do you want to join us?’

“To kill the men who hurt my family,” I said without thinking.