14. Grace
14
Grace
" J orge?"
I squinted and peered into the darkness glowing with a strange halo.
A hunched-over figure sat by the door, his arms dangling in front of him as though he were trying to touch his toes.
My stomach lurched. "Jorge, it's not possible. How are you here?"
I leaned forward and put weight on my healing shoulder. The time spent in my collapsed prison added a moment for physical healing, but everything else remained steadfast.
"Jorge."
My bruised knees prickled on the hard flooring as I moved closer.
The room hadn't shrunk for three days, but they'd open the door all day and night, at random times, and slam it shut, waking me from a deep sleep.
My stomach twisted in knots with each jingle of keys.
Why hadn't he sent his men in to use me?
"Jorge. Why aren't you answering me?"
My fingertips brushed his rough shoulders, and I frowned.
The figure disappeared into the damning wooden chair sitting in what would have been the center of the room.
"No." I hung my head, my lungs fighting for air, the lack of sleep and food, feeding my weakness.
With each passing day, my rations grew smaller. Yesterday, there was half a slice of tortilla and a small scoop of beans, enough to fill my mouth. Today, there wasn't a tortilla.
My shoulders shook as I slid my chain behind me, moving back to my blanket.
Bang .
I scuttled backward, my heart pounding like a wild and relentless drum.
What was that?
Bang.
Was that a gunshot?
Did Andrés find me?
Another gunshot rang out with a stifled malevolent crack. It struck the air with a tangible force, a chilling sensation that seized my very soul as though the bullet was meant for me.
Did Elias kill someone?
Would I be next?
"No," the soldier outside my door said, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence of my prison.
I turned my ear towards the door.
Who was he speaking to?
A faint female voice carried through the confines of my prison as I waited on bated breath for the next round of innocuous torture.
"Who's in here now?" The door swung open, and Rosa stepped through. "I remember this being bigger." She cocked her head to the side.
"Rosa?"
I shielded my eyes from the beam of light as she stepped inside my cell.
"Did you get locked in here?" Rosa walked back out and slapped the guard at the door before he handed her a shining object. "Sometimes, I wonder how I've raised such a son."
My brows rose as the glint of a metallic object in her hand locked my feet into place. "What are you doing?"
She shuffled towards me and motioned to my leg with a swipe upward.
"You're releasing me?" My stomach swirled as I peered into the bright world beyond the doors. "But…"
What would Elias say?
"Let's go, mi hija. I have beans soaking."
Red, hot prickles danced along my throat as I raised my shackled ankle to her waiting hands. She inserted the key and turned it.
The shackles broke open and dropped to the floor with a harsh clang, causing me to curl in on myself.
Everyone will hear that.
They're going to know.
A silence stretched between us as I rubbed my sore ankle, the skin red and inflamed, the bruises bright and angry, forming a perfect circle.
"Let's go . We have some tending to do."
"Tending?"
What about the beans?
Rosa walked ahead of me, her silhouette vanishing through the doorway like a beacon of hope.
I can't go out there.
What would he do if he saw me outside?
She poked her head back in and waved me on, her smile driving the nerves to my bare toes.
I gave her a weak smile and followed, my heart racing into overdrive as I stood.
A pain in my chest had me faltering, dread filling my senses.
What if this was a test? Just like Andrés…
Rosa continued walking without glancing back at me as I stood next to the track, the walls followed, making my cell a small cage fit for an animal.
The guard, who never left his post, narrowed his gaze at me with a slight shake of his head.
I rolled my lips, my stomach swirling with sickness as I glanced around.
The razor wire on top of the wall glinted in the high-noon sun, and a slight electrical hum infiltrated the songbirds’ trills.
There is no escaping this compound.
This was worse than Andrés' place.