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"I'm her daughter," I tell the nurse. Painfully aware of how little time I have before I’m found. "Who is the person in the room?"
"I can't tell you that."
"But you called me and told me to come here." I shake my head. "I'm here because I was told my mother wanted to see me. And I want to see her."
My voice catches at the end. Adriano's gonna find me, and even though I won't let him take me, it's not going to be pretty. My mother called for me, and I'm here to see her, damn it.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. No one called you. There's been no change in your mother’s state for a very, very long time. We had no reason to call you. And unfortunately, there's no way that your mother asked to see you. She is still nonverbal."
At first, I begin to argue. "I was told she wanted to see me."
But as the nurse continues to shake her head, the reality strikes me.
Someone told me to come down here. We have no relatives that would be with my mother. Who is in that fucking room?
"Open that door, immediately," I tell the nurse. When she doesn't, I shove her out of the way. She screams and calls for security. "That's right, call for security!" I yell. I open the door.
My mother looks as peaceful as can be lying in her bed. There's a man I've never seen before sitting next to her. He turns to face me, a chilling smile on his face. "There you are."
I step into the room as security runs down the hallway. They're going to take me away, and I have no idea what this guy is going to do to my mother.
"Who are you?"
"Maybe you should ask Adriano."
Oh, shit. This is not good. I do what Adriano taught me, and quickly look around the room for anything I can potentially use as a weapon. Thankfully, there's a pen on a side table next to a clipboard, there's a metal can of air freshener in the bathroom, a ceramic coffee mug that's sturdy with a handle, and a folding chair. A pair of scissors and a fire extinguisher complete the ensemble. I am ready.
I shut the door to my mother’s room, grab the chair and jam it up against the door. It doesn't secure it, but there are no locks on doors in residential homes like this, and I just need to buy some time.
"Adriano isn't here, so why don't you tell me yourself," I say pleasantly, turning around. I'm ready to brandish the scissors and coffee mug at the first opportunity.
"I'm sure he'll come for you," the man says pleasantly. He's at least ten years older than Adriano, with darker skin and darker eyes, but his eyes don't look like Adriano’s. They're chilling, soulless. I don't know who this man is, but he's absolutely one of Adriano's enemies.
My mother didn't want to see me. She can't request me. Whoever this man is he sent that message just to get me down here. Knowing that I would come. Knowing that Adriano would likely pursue me.
"Now, you have a choice. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."
"How original."
"You'll open the door and come with me. I'll help you sidestep security so you don't have to deal with that little mess. Or, I can drug you and take you out there and threaten them. Which would you prefer?”
"Bruh, option C, which is you go fuck yourself, I toss you over to security, and then I walk out of here, scot-free, after I make sure you didn't hurt my mother."
Security pounds on the door. Sirens blare. My mother stares silently, wide awake now, staring at me as if she recognizes me.
"You stupid bitch," he says. "This doesn't even have anything to do with you." I decide it's time to make my move. When he draws out a gun, I lift my hand and deflect. I quickly spin, knock the gun out of his hand, and grab the scissors. When he lunges for me, I kneel and trip him. I jump to my feet and throw my entire body weight on top of him, holding the scissors to his neck.
He's bigger and stronger than I am, but I do what Adriano taught me—I use his power and strength in my favor. In my peripheral vision, I see my mother begin to clap.
Relief and joy flood me. I'm doing it, I'm actually doing it. I am not letting this man best me.
That one tiny loss of concentration is all it takes. In one move, he leaps up, tossing me down as if I weigh no more than a sack of potatoes. The scissors clatter to the floor; the man backhands me. A metallic taste fills my mouth and pain flares on the side of my face. I'm out of breath, winded from being tossed, trying to get my bearings, when the door breaks down.
I expect security crews to come in, but it isn't them.
He's here. Adriano, in all his raging glory. He doesn't waste time talking, but with brutal efficiency kicks the door closed behind him, unholsters his gun, and shoots.
There's hardly a sound except the whirr of a bullet. A silencer, then. It hits my assailant in the belly. There's so much blood. Crimson stains. The man screams.
