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“—and force women into arranged marriages—”
“Another case of men dictating and controlling the human body.”
“—it all seems a little…farfetched.” Sylvia tried to keep her tone gentle.
In the past hour, two things had become painfully clear. The first was that Alicia absolutely believed everything she said. That was clear from her tone and body language. The second was that Alicia, her brilliant mentor and friend, was butt-fuck crazy.
And here she was, in the car with a crazy person.
A crazy person who had taken Sylvia’s cell phone back when they were at the resort and chucked it into a lagoon.
She wasn’t without a way of communicating, but she really, really didn’t want to use it. If she admitted she believed Alicia’s ranting, she would never hear the end of it from her family. Maybe she was naive. Maybe it had been a combination of a lack of sleep and habitual obedience to Alicia, who had been an important authority figure in her life.
Or maybe she’d gotten so flustered by the idea that Hugo and Lancelot had been using her that she hadn’t been thinking, too caught up in a moment of emotional anguish.
Whatever her reason—and once she got out of this, she was going to have to come up with a very good reason or never hear the end of it—the fact was, now she needed to help Alicia through this. She needed to get her to a hospital with good psychiatric care. The poor woman must have suffered a severe mental break.
“Alicia, look. We’re coming up on a big town. Why don’t we get off the highway?”
“We just stopped, dear. We’re not stopping again.”
Sylvia sighed. “We need to get to a hospital.”
Alicia glanced over sharply. “Did they embed a subcutaneous tracker into you?”
“Did they…uh, no. Alicia, I’m so sorry, but you need help. Medical help.”
“What…oh, I see. You think I’m suffering from a mental illness.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Alicia reached into the pocket on the driver’s-side door for something. “You’re such a kind person,” she said, pulling her left hand out. “Why don’t you get some rest?”
“I’m fine, you’re the one who—”
Alicia lashed out, stabbing something into Sylvia’s thigh.
She yelped in pain—first from the needle, then from the burn as Alicia depressed the plunger.
Sylvia grabbed the woman’s wrist, yanking her arm away, pulling the needle out of her leg as she did. “What was that?!”
“Vitamin K. You’ll be asleep in a few minutes, dear.”
“Alicia—why would you do this?”
“I’m protecting you. I’m protecting both of us.”
Her thigh was burning and she was starting to feel light-headed. Sylvia turned toward the door, seriously considering throwing herself out, but they were going highway speeds, and if she hit her head and passed out, another car might come along and run her over.
Using her body as cover, she twisted her wrist and tapped on her watch, bringing up a series of emojis. Just before she slumped back, she hit the small arrow symbol.
Chapter Fourteen
Sylvia was gone.
Alicia was gone.
It was eight a.m. and Lancelot had no fucking idea where they were. He closed the trunk to Sylvia’s car after conducting a second search of the vehicle, his shirt damp and clinging to him.
