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Steph exits the clinic, but my mother is not by her side. Instead, it's Manasseh and his driver.
A surge of uncertainty washes over me. Should I flee or stay put? Raindrops slide off my hood onto my face, and I can't tell if my vision is blurred because of the rain or because my last hope has been shattered.
“I'm sorry, Becca,” Steph gazes at me, seemingly tempted to glance at Manasseh, but her eyes remain lowered as she leaves.
“How did…” I whisper, still in a state of shock.
“I knew? I know everything about you, Becca. Because I care about you more than anyone else,” his displayed smile disgusts me.
“I don't want you to care about me!” I scream, desperation coating my voice as I meet his gaze. “Stop saying that, Manasseh!”
My skin crawls as I utter his name.
A bolt of lightning splits the sky behind him, and I suddenly feel like I'm truly facing the Devil himself.
“Your time has run out, Becca. Let's go,” he pulls his hand from under the forest-green cloak draped only over his shoulders and extends it to me.
I struggle to catch my breath, my body tensing, feeling trapped.
His eyes look grayer than ever as they lock onto mine, devoid of any semblance of emotion, after earlier claiming to care about me. This terrifies me. I bite my cheek and take a deep breath. Without a second thought, grab the backpack straps and sprint in the opposite direction.
Amidst the pounding rain and the echoing footsteps on the wet pavement, I hear my name being shouted, but I drown out the outside world. Inside me, a storm rages—a battle cry for my own salvation.
I hear my name being called amidst the hurried footsteps that clash against the wet pavement, and the rain's sounds drown out the bustling sounds of Londontraffic. But I block out the external clamor, for within me, a storm has been unleashed.
I sprint forward without looking back, as if my very life depends on it. I dart into a narrow side street, driven by the sense of being followed, and I climb in the backside of a Suzuki pickup truck. In a daring move, I scramble up a tall fence, leaping to the other side. My ankle twinges as it makes contact with the ground, and I know this will be a problem. Leaning against the fence, and the only sounds are the passing of random cars in the distance. Only then do I catch my breath and cautiously limp through the old car park, seeking shelter from the rain. I spot some large, likely guard dogs on the other side of the property, so I move carefully among the parked wrecks, trying not to be seen.
I look up at the brooding sky, raindrops clinging to my flushed cheeks. My starved breaths, as well as my footsteps are silenced by the downpour, so I make my way towards a garage-like structure where work is still being done at this late hour. The rhythmic hum of machinery masks my movements as I approach a raised van, hidden behind a chaotic assemblage of discarded scrap metal and damaged vehicles.
I slip behind the van, its doors left open, and decide to stay overnight. I’ll be long gone when the workers return. My ankle throbs painfully as I struggle to climb the step, which is unusually high due to the wooden blocks supporting the van. The air inside is thick with the scent of dust, cheap tobacco, and wet dog, so I crack the rear door slightly to have some little air and open the front windows. After that, I stretch out on the wooden pallets placed at the back, which were probably used for transporting goods.
I feel homeless, but I don't want to insult those who are truly homeless, even though they are freer than I am.
My mind whirls, and I feel sick. Exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and unrelenting stress fully drained me, and I find myself staring at the oversized, dust-coated window at the back of the garage, barely visible beneath the corroded sheet metal ceiling.
?? ?????? ??
A sudden blast jolts me awake and I pry my eyes open, oblivious to the hour in the darkness around me. I had turned off my phone so the signal wouldn't be detected, and I had even managed to remove the battery. I had seen this once in a movie, and considering the situation I'm in, I don't want to take any risks.
I feel something heavy on my leg, and when I open the door, I realize there's a big dog, probably a pitbull, sitting in my lap. I don't know how to react. Its size scares me, but not the reputation created around them because I remember the gentle nature of Sami's beloved Carla, despite her troubled past and the abuse she endured before he rescued her.
Tentatively, I raise my hand and pet the dog on the head. It lets out a soft sigh, seeking my closeness by nuzzling its nose into the cradle of my palm.
“You’re just as tired as I am, aren’t you?” I ask, tears unexpectedly welling up within me.
I cry loudly, feeling so lost and alone. The dog stands up, sensing my trembling, and tries to lick my cheek.
“You're nothing but a gentle giant,” I murmur, scratching behind its chin, and he seems happy with it.
Is Manasseh from the present like that too?
Big but harmless?
No!
I know I need to keep my distance.
I remember the mysterious pills, and curiosity gnaws at me so intensely that I put the battery back into the phone and search for them online.
