QUESTIONS
Sara
Nothing moves behind me. Footsteps don’t come. Voices stay away. Good, I can fall apart without an audience.
I sit on the mattress. It welcomes me, too soft for the mess in my head. Breakfast with two killers. The thought punches me square in the chest. What the hell am I doing?
They laughed, poured coffee. Chris fried vegetables. Cash made dumb jokes about squirrels while I just sat there taking it all in. I ate omelets with them and gave in to the illusion of normality when this whole setup is anything but normal.
The SAT book glares at me from across the room.
Its bright letters seem ridiculous now, like a party banner left up after a funeral.
I turn away. I don’t want to study anymore.
I don’t want to chase a tomorrow that might mock me in the end.
College tours, dorms, and all those neat little dreams. All of it fake.
Another story I was supposed to believe.
I dig my fingers into my thighs, reminding myself I haven’t disappeared yet.
Stix and Cash. They don’t only break bones, they kill.
The weight of every life they’ve snuffed out presses on me so hard I can barely breathe. I bet they don’t even count their victims, whose begging and pleas materialize in my head.
I don’t know which scares me more. That they’re monsters, or that they’re not.
Maybe they’re good men doing bad things because someone pays them to.
That makes them cogs in the same machine that killed my mother.
If they were able to get someone out of an interrogation room unnoticed, it’s not that far-fetched that they could stage an accident or get files sealed.
The existence of people like them is the reason she’s dead.
Maybe she knew too much, maybe she pushed too far, or said the wrong thing.
How long before I end up like her? God, I wish I had that diary.
My brain insists on playing out the scenario.
Richard hiring Chris or Cash, or both, to get rid of me for good.
It’s just a decision made somewhere out of my reach.
An unpleasant but necessary end handled with grim efficiency, without drama.
I don’t know how they end lives. My mind fills in the blanks anyway.
A blade I wouldn’t see coming. Poison slipped into my drink. A single sharp sound, then—nothing.
However it’s done, it’s final, clean enough that the world won’t overthink it.
I press the heel of my hand into my eye until white sparks explode behind my lids.
As far as I can tell, Richard didn’t choose that kind of ending, at least not yet.
He chose a different path. Distance mixed with layers of lies, keeping him untouched while I absorb the damage in this game of kidnapping and hiding.
Why doesn’t he just order the hit? He did it with my mother.
She had his name, and she was disposable anyway.
Do I even want to know which one of them would pull the trigger first if the price was right?
Because the truth is, even if they care, even if they mean well, caring doesn’t stop people from doing terrible things. I’m not worth the exception.
I curl onto the bed sideways, knees to my chest, trying not to shake. Until now, I’d thought my father wanted to punish me, put me in my place, and teach me a lesson. But what if it’s more? What if it always was?
I’m confused and tired. So, so tired. I don’t know if I’ll ever get out of this place alive.