Chapter Sixteen
Joanna
The bed feels damp.
I throw back the sheets.
‘Shit.’
I’ve started my period eight days early. It must be the stress. I glance at the clock: seven a.m. I don’t even know if he’s upstairs. For all I know, there's nothing above me but a crumbling warehouse.
I rush to the bathroom and shove wads of toilet paper into my knickers.
The phone rings a few times before he picks up. ‘What is it?’ he asks.
‘I’ve started my period. I need tampons. And clean bedsheets.’
There’s a long, audible sigh, and if I weren’t so terrified, I might laugh. His hostage is clearly proving high maintenance.
‘Strip the bed,’ he says finally. ‘Leave the sheets. I’ll swap them when I bring breakfast. You’ll get them back at dinner.’
‘I need tampons,’ I remind him.
‘I’ll get them.’ He hangs up.
My heart is pounding. It’s been one night, just one, but it feels like I’ve been locked in this room for weeks. Why haven’t the police found me? Why hasn’t anyone?
***
Only the bottom sheet is stained. As I peel it off, a memory ambushes me.
Danny and I were shopping for a bed for the new house. He had flopped down dramatically on every single one, making me laugh until I couldn’t breathe. Then he pulled me down beside him.
‘Wide enough for you?’
‘Have you seen the price tag?’
‘We can afford it,’ he said confidently. And he was right. We could.
The renovations were finally happening. Thanks to Danny’s promotion and my job, we were finally doing well.
By that time we had even found the perfect nanny, Nicola, who was dependable, kind and happy with flexible hours.
She preferred not to live in, but was always happy to stay late.
We'd even offered to repay Dad for the deposit for the flat, but he refused. Danny thought that was a dig at him, but I knew better. When Dad offers a gift, that’s what it is: a gift.
I snap back to reality, back to the present. I’ve had it good. Too good. And now I’m paying for it. Someone hates me. And I can only think of one family who truly might. I sit on the stripped bed as another memory assails me, sharp and unforgiving.
It’s always like this: out of nowhere, Lila appears. And now Joel, too. Lila died on the operating table. I remember collapsing into Gil’s arms after she had pulled me off the body.
I see Lila’s face every day. Beautiful. Broken.
A child destroyed by the people who were meant to love her.
The police were called, and her parents were arrested.
Gil told me that I had done everything possible and that no other surgeon would have kept trying as long as I had. But I couldn’t save her.
I broke down in front of Nicola when I got home that afternoon. She didn’t flinch. She just poured wine and reminded me of every baby I had saved.
That’s when I knew we’d chosen the right person. She cared.
Does she know I’m gone? Has she seen the news?
Then it hits me: Is this about Lila?
Is it revenge?
Her parents were violent. But they’re in prison. Still, what if a family member wants payback? Or money from Daniel? Is that why I’m here?
But none of this fits with their characters. I’m not in a shack, or chained up in a basement with a bucket. I’m warm. I have food. A bed. Soap. But who kidnaps someone and keeps them in luxury? None of it makes sense.
I shove thoughts of Lila from my mind before the grief consumes me. Danny and I should be unpacking boxes in our new home. Will I ever see my son again? Feel his small body curled into mine?
Tears prick at my eyes, and I wipe them away angrily. The clock says seven thirty. There’s no way he’ll find a shop open this early.
I shower, then wrap toilet paper into a makeshift pad. It’s bulky and uncomfortable, but it’ll do for now.
Time seems to crawl by.
Eventually, it’s eight thirty, and my chest tightens.
By nine, panic has started to creep in. What if he’s not coming back? What if he’s had an accident?
I grab the phone with shaking hands, but there's nothing but the endless buzz. He must have gone to the shop. He must.
I slide to the floor. Sobs overcome me, fierce and hot. My stomach cramps and my legs ache.
‘Please,’ I whisper. ‘Please, God. Don’t let me die here.’