Chapter 7 Lena #2
"Alright, well I'll clear the table and we can put it together before your appointment. Sound good?" Knox said.
I nodded again, more surely this time.
He grabbed my half-eaten plate, muttering, "Note to self, the runt likes grapes," before leaving me alone with Silas.
Silas reached for the puzzle, lifting the lid with careful movements, trying to soften his rough nature. I could tell how difficult it was for him. As he flipped the box, hundreds of small pieces tumbled out, in every color and shape imaginable. So many pieces… so many options.
Then it happened.
The same thing that had happened during my escape.
The same thing that often, more frequently before captivity.
A picture entered my mind at once, each piece rearranging in my brain and clicking into place.
I could see the finished puzzle, in the same way I could see the escape map.
I began working immediately, already knowing where each piece belonged.
I visualized the fits before my hands could reach them, snapping the puzzle together as if following instructions only I could see.
Time blurred while my attention narrowed to the task. My hands struggled to keep pace with the speed at which my mind assembled the image, the puzzle already complete in my head long before it lay finished on the table.
When it was fully assembled, I took what felt like my first full breath since I had started. A small smile of accomplishment tugged at my lips. The image on the table showed a puppy sitting in a basket. Cute.
I looked up and met Silas’s stare.
His mouth hung slightly open, brows furrowed in disbelief. “What the hell was that, little mute?”
My eyes went wide.
Had I upset him again?
I looked past him to Knox. He had reentered the room at some point and leaned against the wall, watching me just as closely. Fear flashed through me.
“He’s not mad, runt,” Knox clarified quickly. “He’s impressed. How did you do that? It takes me days to put together puzzles that are this complex.”
I shrugged.
Silas moved fast, forgetting to soften his movements this time, and it startled me. He swiped a hand across the puzzle, scattering the pieces and breaking the image apart.
“Again,” he said. “Do it again. I’ll time you this round.”
Knox nodded in agreement and took a seat beside his brother.
I looked down at the scattered pieces. Immediately, the picture formed again, every piece already in place in my mind before my hands could reach them. I worked quickly, fingers moving on instinct.
Suddenly, I finished assembling it again.
“Holy shit,” Silas muttered. “That’s a five hundred piece puzzle.” He glanced down at his watch. “It took her thirty-two minutes.”
Both alphas’ comms went off at the same time.
“Boss, the shrink is here," Officer Yuri said.
“Send her in, Yuri,” Silas ordered sharply. Before he left the room, he disrupted the puzzle again. “Let’s show the doc. She’s going to want to see this.”
I had nearly finished assembling it for the third time when Dr. Hampton entered the room. She didn’t interrupt, simply watching and tracking my hands with focused attention.
When the final piece clicked into place and the image of a puppy in a basket appeared once more, she sat beside me.
The doctor pulled her chair closer, notebook resting on her knee. Her voice remained neutral and clinical and always, but there was a glint in her eye that hadn't been there before.
“I’m going to ask you some 'yes or no' questions,” she said.
I nodded.
“When you look at a puzzle, do you see individual pieces first?”
I shook my head.
“Do you see the whole picture before you start?”
Yes.
“Does the picture feel complete in your mind before your hands move?”
Yes.
“Do you try different pieces to see if they fit?”
No.
“When a piece is wrong, do you need to test it to know that?”
No.
Her pen paused briefly, then continued.
“Do you feel like you’re deciding where pieces go?”
No.
“Does it feel more like putting them back where they belong?”
Yes.
She glanced up at me then, just for a second.
“Does time feel different while you’re working?”
Yes.
“Slower?” she asked.
I hesitated, then shook my head.
“Faster?”
Another pause. Then I nodded.
“Do you feel confused while solving the puzzle?”
No.
“Do you feel relieved when it’s finished?”
Yes.
Dr. Hampton leaned back slightly, studying me in an unfamiliar way.
“One last question,” she said. “If the puzzle were taken away halfway through, would the picture still be clear in your mind?”
Yes.
She closed her notebook.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “That’s all I need, for now.”
Something in her tone told me we would be revisiting this.
The rest of our appointment passed in a blur.
At the end, my handlers asked the same questions they always asked about Marco and his omegas.
I didn’t answer. I never did. Those questions felt different than the doctor's.
Dangerous. I could feel my handler's impatience sharpening, but trust didn't come on command, as much as I wished it would.
“Lena, were you ever kept in the same house as other omegas?” Silas asked.
I stayed silent.
“Does Marco keep them together, or separate them?” he pressed.
Nothing.
“What about the basement? Were any of them taken down there with you as punishment?”
I didn’t react.
“And his men,” Silas continued, sliding a book across the table. It was filled with photos and mugshots. Luca. Jacob. So many others I recognized. All cruel men.
“Which of them had access to you?”
My jaw locked, my lips pressing into a hard line.
“Do you recognize any of them?” Silas asked, his voice tightening.
I turned away from the book, as the sight of those men turned my stomach with a sickening feeling.
“Okay,” Dr. Hampton said calmly. “That’s enough for today.”
Silas slammed his hands down on the table.
The sharp crack sent me curling inward before I could stop myself, shoulders hunching, breath catching as my body braced for impact that never came.
“Five years,” Silas snapped, pacing a step away before dragging a hand through his hair in his typical frustrated fashion. “Five years with Marco, and we’re still getting nowhere.” He laughed shallow and short, more disbelief than humor. “Do you know how rare intel like that is?”
“Special Officer Mercer,” the doctor said in warning.
Silas’ mouth curved without humor. “You promised progress.” His eyes flicked toward me. “She’s just as silent as the day we dragged her in. Not one shred of usable intel.” He looked back at the doctor. “And we’re no closer to recovering the omegas.”
A beat.
“My methods never take this long. One way or another, people give up information.” His gaze turned cold. “So I’d really love for you to point out where exactly this ‘progress’ is supposed to be.”
Dr. Hampton didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t flinch. In fact, she didn't seem remotely intimidated by Silas' outburst. If anything, she was annoyed.
I, on the other hand, was terrified.
“We are making progress,” she said. “Just not the kind you can force.”
Silas scoffed. “That’s convenient.”
“What’s convenient,” she replied, unbothered by his rudeness, “is that she’s still here. Still engaging. Still responding.”
She met his eyes. “You push too hard now, and you'll lose that.”
Silas’s jaw worked, the muscle jumping. He looked like he wanted to argue, to tear into her just to feel movement again, but he stopped himself. Barely.
“This isn’t just about answers,” Dr. Hampton continued. “It’s also about reconditioning. Command wants her functional for service. You know where she'll go if they find her unfit for duty…”
I shivered. Everyone knew about the breeding centers. They were the nightmare Arca used to keep omegas in line.
“You don’t want that for Lena, do you, Silas?” she asked, her head tilting slightly.
The way she said his first name casually and too familiar, made something uneasy curl in my stomach. His gaze drifted to me, lingering in a way I didn’t understand. Goosebumps prickled across my skin.
Silas exhaled through his nose, loud at first, then quieter. The anger in him didn’t vanish, but it shifted, pulling tight and contained. Finally, he dragged his gaze away from me, like it took more effort than it should have.
“Fine,” he said low. “For today.”
Dr. Hampton gathered her notes, then paused, fingers resting lightly on the edge of the table.
“There's one more thing before I go,” she said.
Silas stilled, tension still coiled in him, but he didn’t interrupt again.
“Every appointment,” the doctor continued, “I ask if there is something I can bring with me to our following session. Something that might help. Something you want.”
Her eyes returned to me, not pressing or demanding, but patient.
“You haven’t requested anything yet,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “But I’ll ask again. Is there something you want me to bring you, Lena?”
The room went quiet.
I kept my lips shut, the question making me more uncomfortable than all the others combined. Not because it was threatening.
Because it was an offer.
And I didn’t yet know what it would cost me to accept it.
Despite that, I lifted my hand and pointed to the puzzle still spread across the table. I had enjoyed putting it together and wanted another.
For the first time in a long while, my mind felt awake again. The images, which used to surface all the time, were coming back more frequently. It was as if my mental gears were finally greased and turning freely.
She nodded. “More puzzles. Noted. I'll try to find a few that are more challenging.”
Asking for more puzzles was my first, small test. I wanted to know what, if anything, my request would cost me, and more importantly, whether I could begin to trust them.