CHAPTER 6
ZANE
"Where are you taking me?" Mia asks, her voice tinged with confusion.
She probably would’ve known if she hadn’t been asleep for over twelve hours. I thought about waking her up, but she looked so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to. So I just let her sleep until we actually had to go.
Besides, there wasn’t much time to explain everything. My attention was drawn to packing a suitcase, carefully folding clothes and focusing on the little details.
I’m not a huge fan of talking. I prefer my time alone.
You’re avoiding her, my inner voice adds.
Yeah, that too.
"Los Angeles," I reply, glancing over at her. "You woke up just in time for my tattoo conference, and I’ve got a client to meet there. So, I guess you won a free trip since Charlie insists I be your nanny."
"Cool," she responds, a wide grin spreading across her face, her tone almost childlike. "What’s Los Angeles?"
I stop, staring at her, caught off guard. "You’re kidding, right?"
She looks at me, deadpan. "I don’t know. Am I?" Her expression is so genuine, it throws me off.
Whoisthis girl?
It’s not just her blank stare—it’s the way she carries herself, like she’s trying to make sense of a world she doesn’t understand. But there’s something else too. She looks so much like her—same eyes, same hair, same gentle voice.
"The city," I say, trying to keep it simple. "Do you know what a city is?"
She tilts her head, thinking for a moment before answering mechanically, "A city is a territory, a cluster of people situated in a geographically delimited area, containing houses, industries, and agricultural spaces… a city."
I blink, processing her answer. "You’ve never traveled before?"
She shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. "Dallas," she says, her voice soft and matter-of-fact. "I thought Dallas was a hospital."
I raise an eyebrow. "No, Dallas is a city. You were in a hospital, but it was in Dallas."
Her brow furrows slightly, processing the information. "Oh. I see." She pauses, looking at me curiously. "You really don’t know these things?
"No," she replies with a sigh. " I was never allowed to leave. I was raised in confinement until I was ten with my brother, One. But he was separated from me, and I was assigned to a Master when I was fourteen."
Her voice is so casual, as if she's gossiping about something harmless, like some weird anecdote. But the words are as fucked up as they get.
My theory was right.
She’s one of them. One of the girls held captive by the Cartel.
Maybe they fucking sold her as a baby, and that’s why she doesn’t remember shit about society—Jesus. That just makes this whole mess even more fucked up.
I've heard about it. Hell, it always made my skin crawl. She's like Seth Evans—another soul rescued from that kind of nightmare.
Fuck.
I remind myself again: stay out of this. I don't want to get dragged into her world. I really don’t.
But we're about to spend twenty hours in a car together, so I guess I'll figure her out—whether I want to or not.
I connect my phone to the car, and the travel playlist kicks in. As Blackpink’s “Kill This Love” blasts through the speakers, I glance over at Mia. Her eyes widen as if she's seeing something completely foreign, like a newborn discovering color for the first time.
She stares at the screen, then looks back at me, her expression more curious than I expected. "What is this?" she asks, trying to absorb every note of the music. "I don’t understand some of the words they’re saying."
I struggle to keep a straight face. It's hard not to laugh, but not in a way that’s mocking her. It's just... she’s so genuinely curious, and that’s hard to not find endearing. "Yes, because they're speaking Korean."
"Korean," she murmurs, almost to herself, processing the word. She turns back to the rhythm, totally absorbed in the music. Her head starts to bob ever so slightly.
It’s cute, watching her get lost in things like this. The way she notices the world for the first time—as if everything is new and exciting. It's funny, but also kinda heartbreaking.
Stop being stupid, Zane. The girl just told you she was locked away her entire life, and you’re over here finding joy in her wonder?
I shake my head, trying to push away the softness creeping into my chest. She's been through hell, and I have no idea if I can help her.
Her smile flickers—tiny but real—and it makes my stomach twist. Then I notice something else: she starts moving her head a little more, like she's trying to decode a message that only she can hear. It’s such a raw, innocent look—like she's solving the puzzle of the world one beat at a time. “Nice,” she says, genuinely happy, her voice warm and sweet in a way that feels almost contagious.
Her fingers drum lightly on her leg, perfectly in rhythm with the music playing from the speakers.
The sheer excitement in her expression draws out an involuntary smile from me.
“That music…” she starts, her voice trailing off in thought. “It makes me feel like I’m gearing up for a battle. Like something is about to explode.”
Her lips curl into a smile—the kind of smile I’ve already come to associate with impending chaos.
It’s not that Mia causes trouble intentionally. It’s more like she invites it, embraces it, and maybe even thrives on it.
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “That’s very Blackpink of them, actually. But the song isn’t about explosions. It’s about overcoming obstacles, self-love… you know, those things.”
“Then why is it in two languages?” she asks, leaning in closer to the dashboard, her head tilting as though trying to decode the lyrics. “I didn’t understand the beginning.”
I glance her way, amused by her earnest curiosity. “They mix Korean and English because they’re part of a global group. It’s their way of reaching people from all over the world. Kind of like a cultural bridge.”
Her eyes light up in understanding. “Lo entiendo perfectamente,” she says, switching to fluent Spanish.
I blink in surprise, caught off guard. I recognize the words, even if my own Spanish is rusty. But it’s her fluency—and the way her English doesn’t carry even a hint of an accent—that makes her an even bigger mystery.
“You speak Spanish?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
She shrugs. “Sometimes. Not much use for it where I grew up, though.”
This girl, I think, is full of surprises.
“A bridge of explosions and loud crashes,” she says, circling back to her earlier observation and sounding fully satisfied with her conclusion. “It’s fascinating. I wish I’d heard this kind of music before. It makes you want to… dance. Can we?”
I snort. “You want me to dance? While driving? That would definitely make for an explosive end to our trip.”
She laughs. “You never dance? Not even a little? Like, when you’re alone?”
I shrug, keeping my face carefully neutral. “I… have my moments. But generally, I just listen.”
Mia turns to me, her expression one of exaggerated shock. “You’re so mysterious,” she teases, swaying her head lightly to the rhythm of the music. “It’s kind of intriguing, little angel.”
“‘Mysterious’? There’s nothing mysterious about me,” I reply, shaking my head with a small chuckle. “I’m just… reserved, I guess.”
“Do you have siblings?” she asks suddenly, and I stiffen, caught off guard by the question. I don’t let my discomfort show, but it takes me a beat too long to respond.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “A brother and a sister.”
Her face lights up. “Me too! Though… My brother is not alive and I don’t know where my sister is.” Her voice softens with the confession.
I glance at her briefly. “Hopefully, she is safe. In peace.”
She smiles at that, but it’s faint and tinged with something sad. “You must think I’m stupid.”
“What? Why would I think that?”
“Well…” She hesitates. “I tried to kill you.”
I let out a soft sigh. “You were scared, Mia. I get it. I’m not going to hurt you, but… I’ll admit this is all new for me, too. I’m kind of used to being alone.”
She nods, her gaze distant. “Me too,” she murmurs. “I’ve been alone for a long time.” She pauses, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “I had a brother once. And then… I didn’t. Just my cage after that.”
Her words hang heavy in the air, and I don’t press. Instead, I let the silence settle, offering her space if she wants to continue.
“I didn’t like it,” she says quietly. “Some bad men hurt me.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask carefully, knowing the weight of my words.
Her eyes flick to mine, confused, as if the concept of talking about feelings is completely foreign to her. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes…” I start, unsure of how to phrase it. “Sometimes it helps to talk about the things that make us sad. Gets them out of your head, you know?”
She looks at me like I’ve just spoken in another language. “Do you have things that make you sad?”
I take a deep breath, knowing I can’t expect her honesty without offering mine. “Yeah. I hate the place I once called home. It makes me sad that I can’t go back there.”
“Was it nice?” she asks, her curiosity genuine.
I hesitate, my voice quieter when I answer. “Sometimes. But mostly, it was just lonely.”
Her face softens, and she murmurs, “You must miss your siblings.”
“Sometimes,” I admit. “My brother’s probably married now. His wife’s name is Abigail. Sweet woman—he deserves someone like that. And my sister… she’s probably with Harvin. They’ve always been close.” My voice grows bitter without meaning to, the words heavy with regret. “I don’t know how they are now. I walked out of their lives. It’s just easier that way.”
Her gaze lingers on me, as though she can sense the weight of my words, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she leans back, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.
When she finally drifts off, her breathing even and peaceful, I focus on the road ahead. Hours pass in quiet contemplation, the hum of the engine and the soft music the only sounds keeping me company.
I glance over at her, her eyes still closed, but there's a subtle smile playing on her lips, like she’s dreaming about something funny. The quiet hum of the car fills the space, but I know she’s not one for silence for long.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” I say, not expecting her to answer.
But Mia, ever the spark of energy, doesn’t let it go. “Me? Quiet? That’s a good one.” She stirs slightly, propping herself up on her elbow, and her voice takes on that excited tone she has, like she’s bursting with thoughts.
“Okay, okay,” she continues, “what do you think about this? If you could be anywhere right now, like any place, real or imaginary, where would it be?”
I raise an eyebrow, caught off guard by the randomness of the question. “Uh, I don’t know. Somewhere peaceful, maybe... a cabin in the woods.”
She looks at me like I’ve just spoken in another language. “A cabin? In the woods? Is that, like, a thing people actually do? What do you do there, just... sit in silence and stare at trees?”
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, pretty much. But it's nice. Peaceful.”
She scrunches her nose. “That sounds boring. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I get the whole ‘nature’ thing, but you can’t just... stare at trees all day. What if a bear shows up? Or a squirrel that knows karate?”
I stare at her, blinking for a second. “A squirrel that knows karate?”
She nods seriously, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Yeah! They’re sneaky little creatures. I’ve seen enough movies to know they can be trained. Imagine, like, a squirrel army, attacking from the trees! You’d need more than just peace and quiet to deal with that.”
I almost choke on my laugh, not expecting that from her. I mean the girl should be all gloomy right? She went through a lot.
Mia isn't gloomy at all—she's like a little burst of sunshine with a hint of psycho energy. She kind of gives off Lucy vibes from Elfen Lied, mixing sweetness with unpredictability.
“Well, I guess I’d have to rethink my cabin in the woods then. What about you? Where would you go?”
She tilts her head, eyes wide with innocence. “I don’t know... Maybe a mall? Or, like, one of those fancy stores with all the pretty clothes? People go there, right? Or is that just a dream thing?”
“Yeah, big pretzels and... all kinds of snacks. And yes, people go there, but you might have to fight a few teenagers for the last pair of shoes.”
Her eyes widen in awe. “People fight over shoes?! This world is insane!” She laughs, her voice a little too loud, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief at how much she’s missed out on.
“Yeah, it can be pretty wild,” I reply, still chuckling. “But hey, if we ever find one of those squirrel armies, I’ll make sure we get matching shoes before the battle.”
Mia grins like she just unlocked a new level of understanding. “Deal. And if we find that mall... I’m getting the biggest pretzel ever. I’ll fight for it if I have to.”
I shake my head, the tension finally slipping away, and for the first time in what feels like forever.
As the car fills with her quiet laughter and the faint melody of another song, I steal a glance at her—this strange, fascinating girl who’s turned my world upside down.
She looks up at me, and for a split second, there’s a shadow of something in her eyes—a flicker of recognition. It's gone so fast, I almost wonder if I imagined it.
But in that moment, we’re connected in some strange, unspoken way.
Who would’ve thought I’d end up driving to Los Angeles with someone who spent most of her life trapped in a basement? The thought presses heavily against my chest, a strange mix of disbelief and unease.
And yet, here she is—Mia—swaying her head to the rhythm of the music, as though the world is a bright, promising place just waiting to be explored.
Her sudden voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What are the beaches like? Are they like in the movies? You know, with white sand and crystal-clear blue water?”
I can’t help but smile, her excitement oddly infectious. “Some beaches are like that,” I say. “Others… not so much. It depends on where you go. But the water is always a big part of the experience. And the sunsets?” I pause, letting the memory settle in my mind. “They’re… different.”
“Different how?” she presses, her curiosity insatiable.
“It’s hard to explain. When you’re there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, it’s like everything slows down. The world feels calmer somehow, like it’s handing you a moment of peace.”
Mia leans back into her seat, her expression softening as she imagines it. “I think I’m going to like that,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
Her world has been so small, so confined, that even the simplest things feel monumental to her.
She breaks the silence, her voice suddenly filling the car again. “What else is there?”
I glance at her briefly. “What do you mean?”
“In Los Angeles. Besides the ocean and the traffic. What else will we see?”
A flicker of excitement stirs in me—an unfamiliar feeling, but not unwelcome. “Do you want me to show you?” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve even fully processed them.
Her eyes widen, bright with surprise. “Seriously?”
I nod, catching her enthusiasm. “Yeah. I’ve got some things I need to handle when we first get there, so it might not be right away. But after that, I can take you to see the city—and the ocean.”
“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice brimming with excitement. Her joy is so pure, so unfiltered, that I can’t help but feel it too.
And for reasons I can’t quite put into words, I find myself smiling—not just for her, but for me.
Because maybe, just maybe, this journey isn’t just about showing Mia the world. Maybe it’s about finding my way back to it, too.