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“It’s not so bad. I’ll be fine.” I very slowly lean over to reach out for a roast beef sandwich with my free arm, and Julie grabs one and hands it to me.
These are people with compassion. Decent human beings who don’t deserve this. And there is absolutely nothing I can do to help them.
Joshua, what thefuckis taking you so long?
I give up on trying to hide my chest and start chewing, mechanically, not because I’m hungry, but because I need to keep my strength up for whatever comes next.
“Why is he doing this to you?” asks Robin, who looks to be the oldest, looking bewildered. “He doesn’t do this to the other girl, or to us.”
“You do know he’s listening to everything we say, don’t you?” I ask her.
“Yes.” She flicks a glance at a corner of the room, and I follow it and see a camera mounted on the ceiling. She turns her head so the camera isn’t pointed at her, and mouths something that looks like “motherfucker”, and I manage a little smile.
I carefully explain as much as I dare. I don’t tell them the full story about Joshua. I just tell them that I’ve been staying with Micah’s twin brother, and Micah hates Joshua and believes Joshua loves me, so that’s why he’s using me as an instrument of revenge.
“Who is that other girl?” Astrid asks me. “The one who’s chained up in the room with you? The one who never talks?”
“She used to be my neighbor. It’s a very long story. Robin, can you pour me some tea?”
As I eat the sandwich in small bites, Astrid quietly tells me about her husband’s deal with Joshua. Joshua was paying millions of dollars to keep his brother locked away in an asylum.
She only found out about it six months ago, after Micah escaped. Her husband rushed home one day in the middle of work, in a panic. He confessed everything to her and told her they needed to leave the country.
She thought her husband was lying. It was the craziest thing she’d ever heard. She stood there watching him dragging suitcases out of the closet, wondering if he would end up in a straitjacket in his own hospital.
Then Micah walked in with the barrel of a gun pressed against her youngest son’s head. And her family’s life has been hell ever since. He always keeps a few of them prisoner here, and the ones who are free have to go out in public with Dr. Barnard and pretend everything is fine, in case they’re being watched by Joshua’s men.
She had to pull all her children out of school and pretend that she was homeschooling them. They stopped talking to their friends, stopped doing everything except living in fear.
“It’s torture for me when he has my children here and I’m not with them,” Astrid whispers. Darlie sniffles, and Astrid quickly pats her knee.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t talk about it. We’ll be fine,” she says bleakly, in a leached-out, despairing voice that convinces no-one.
As we talk, I’m scanning the room. No windows. One door. Nothing but the sofa, a couple of overstuffed chairs and a TV mounted on the wall, a very heavy coffee table that I wouldn’t be able to move even if I had my full strength, and a remote control for the TV.
I don’t see anything I can use, and it fills me with despair. The Barnards were useful to Micah as long as he needed them to fool Joshua. Now Joshua knows Micah is free, he doesn’t need them to carry on that charade anymore. Astrid, a nurse, is still useful to him as long as I’m alive. But what will he do to them when I’m dead? They’ll be a liability. They could testify against him if he let them go.
They’re as good as dead. Do they realize it? From the heavy silence in the room, I’m afraid they might.
“Let’s talk about happy things,” Robin says in a tight voice. “Who’s your favorite band?”
“I like the Killers a lot.”
“The Killers! Get out of town, Gramma,” she says in a joking voice. Then she gasps and looks horrified. “I’m so sorry. After everything you’ve been through…”
“Don’t be sorry,” I say quickly. “Please. I haven’t messed with anyone in ages, especially a member of the Justin Bieber fan club.”
“Ewww.” She and her sisters laugh. “He is so last year. Ed Sheeran!”
“She’s MrsEd3725 on Twitter,” Julianne confides. “She like totally stalks him. She wants to have his little ginger babies.”
“Oh, my God, you witch. I’ll get you for that.” Robin fake glares at her.
So we spend the next hour talking about our favorite music and our favorite movies, and the girls paste on smiles and pretend everything is fine, and Astrid’s eyes are haunted and her hands tremble as she eats. The air is staticky with misery and fear.
Then the door flies open, and Micah comes in, marching Heather in, his hand gripping her arm. Her hands are free, but her ankles are shackled. She’s barefoot and wearing a cheap-looking white rayon tank dress. She looks angry and confused. And in his free hand, he’s holding a very sharp knife.
We all stand up as he approaches us, our eyes drawn to the blade. I feel a chill of fear, and I move forward so I’m in front of Astrid and the girls, my bruised body groaning in protest with every twitch of my muscles.
