Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Annika
“Annika?”
My heart skips a beat as I hear my sister’s voice from the other side of the bedroom door.
I sit up as best as I can with the restraints holding me so tight, and wait for the door to open.
My hopes of finding a weapon in my bedside drawer were dashed and have put me back in another spell of misery and panic.
It was empty, and even if it hadn’t been, my restraints kept me from actually reaching any further than the lip of the drawer.
A masked man opens my door and my temporary relief at hearing my sister’s voice vanishes as I see her walk in with a tray. She looks even worse than she did at the gallery. She has dark circles under eyes, she’s thinner than ever before, and her chapped lips have a cut running down the left side.
“Valya,” I whisper as she comes toward me with the tray. “What happened to you.”
“Hush,” she answers her voice so soft I almost can’t hear her.
She sits the tray on the bed and leans into hug me tight. It’s odd, because she’s never been one to hug me before.
“There’s microphones and cameras in here,” she whispers faintly in my ear as she hugs me.
My eyes start to go wide, but I quickly fix my expression, knowing I can’t let my watchers know what I’ve been told.
I feel her slip something between my lower back and pillow, then she pulls away.
“They say I can remove your restraints to eat if you promise not to try to fight,” Valya tells me, louder this time. “It would be good for you to get some rest too. I’m sure it’s too uncomfortable to get any sleep like this.”
I nod my head, knowing I need to play along with whatever this is.
“I promise,” I readily reply.
Valya’s usual cold stare returns, and she reaches calmly for the restraint on my left hand.
“How long have I been in here?” I ask her.
“A little over a day,” she replies, freeing my wrist.
My arm tingles and burns as it falls limply to my side. I try to lift it into my lap, but I can’t yet. Valya moves to my right wrist and releases it, and it drops with the same dead weight as my left.
“It’ll take a second for the feeling to come back,” Valya tells me, pulling away from me.
“Valya, please,” I beg, “Tell me something, anything about what’s going on. Who has you and Papa doing this? This isn’t you! What has he done to-”
Valya’s slap comes fast across my face. It stings, but I’ve been in a slapping fight with my little sister before, and I know she can hit harder than that.
She’s holding back, I realize, she’s acting.
“You don’t know anything about us,” Valya hisses, glaring at me. Even still, I see a tinge of regret flicker through her eyes.
“Now shut up and eat.”
Her voice is thick with venomous disgust, but again, it doesn’t seem like her. I pray that my theory about her acting is right, and like a good little hostage, I conjure up a sniffle and huddle into my pillows. Even though it’s not her I’m afraid of, it’s not hard to pretend I’m scared.
She gives me a subtle nod of approval, and slides the tray closer to me.
“Eat,” she commands.
Though my arms and hands are still stinging with the feel of blood returning them, I reach for the tray and pull it into my lap. My fingers tremble as I fumble for the flimsy plastic bowl. There’s no spoon. There’s nothing that I could potentially use as a weapon.
“You followed Mama’s recipe,” I say after swallowing my first sip.
For a second sadness glimmers in her eyes, but when she blinks its gone, and she’s glaring at me again as she gives a single nod of her head.
“As much as I hate you I can’t feed you that canned shit. It’s not fit for a dog.”
It’s the closest thing to I love you, as Valya can say to me, especially in this situation.
I take a deeper sip of the broth as I think. I have to act as if I don’t know Valya’s hiding her true feelings, but I don’t want her to have to slap me again. There has to be a middle we can meet at.
“Can I ask you why you hate me so much?” I finally ask. “Can you tell me what I’ve done that’s so awful?”
I catch Valya’s eyes flicking to my lamp.
So. That must be where the camera and microphone are hidden.
“What’s there to like?” Valya asks, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re just so…weak.”
I flinch at her words, knowing that she partially finds her statement true. Valya’s always looked down on me for my softer, more obedient ways. Always thought I was scheming for something with my gentler nature.
“You were always the strong one,” I say softly, then bring the bowl back to my mouth.
Valya doesn’t answer me this time, just watches numbly as I finish drinking the rest of the soup.
“Get some rest,” she tells me after she picks the tray off of my lap. The lashes of her left eye flicker as she says it. A quick little wink. “You look awful. You definitely need it.”
I only nod, and watch her as she goes back to the door, kicks it twice, and it opens.
Without another word, she leaves me alone in my room once again.
I slip my hand behind my back, hiding the note Valya left for me, and pull the covers back from my bed.
I even go the extra mile of letting out a few sullen-sounding sniffles as I snuggle between the blankets and pull the covers over my head.
As soon as the blankets are around me, I unfold Valya’s note, and read it quickly.
This is not our fault. We’re trapped. Kirill is coming for you and they’ll kill him. Maybe we can stop it. Be ready for me the next time you hear me outside your door.
Fear, worry, and confusion pour through as I read the messy scribble of Valya’s handwriting. I knew it. I knew she and my papa weren’t behind this! But whoever it was didn’t just want my ransom. They wanted my husband. Dead. And I couldn’t allow that.
So I push my need for answers away, and crumble up the tiny bit of paper.
It tastes awful and I know it’s not good for me or the baby, but I swallow it.
Just in case my captors get suspicious and decide to come check on me.
I keep the covers over me, pretending to sleep as I keep my body ready to pounce and my ears pricked for Valya’s voice.
It’s not my husband that needs to save me. It’s I that must now save him.