Page 35 of Death

A few days ago, I was given slacks, T-shirts, and underwear. It’s much better than the dresses Nolan forced me to wear. But even though the clothes are neatly packed into the closet, I always wait for Santiago to tell me I’m allowed to shower and change into clean clothes.

Deep down, I’m aware I’m no longer with Nolan, and I’m in a safe place, but my mind struggles to process it. I’m constantly on edge, feeling like it will all change within seconds, and I’mterrified of Santiago. I don’t trust his smiles and kind words, because when I look into his eyes, I see the danger lurking in them.

Dr. Pires and Emma always listen to him, so it’s clear his word is law around here. Wherever here is?

I sit up in bed and stare at the open door.

Drawing my bottom lip between my teeth, I climb off the bed and inch my way closer to the doorway. Once again, I’m aware that there’s no chain around my ankle. At first, I could still feel it there, even though I knew it wasn’t tied around my ankle. But with time, the sensation faded.

When I peek into the hallway, I don’t see anyone, and I quickly tiptoe in the direction I think the exit might be.

Suddenly, Emma turns up the hallway, but she instantly stops walking and smiles at me. “Come, Ciara. It’s okay.”

I move closer to the wall and press my hand against it as I cautiously walk toward her.

No one has hurt me since I’ve been here.

They’re letting me do things for myself.

I keep repeating the words as the nurses' station comes into view.

When my eyes flick to the windows and open glass doors, Emma says, “It’s okay. You can go outside.”

My gaze darts between her and the door before I carefully move forward. When I manage to step outside without being grabbed by someone, I quickly glance around me.

My lips part in shock when I see a road with many small houses to my left. There are people talking and laughing, and it feels as if I’ve stepped into an alternate universe.

When I turn my head, my gaze falls on Santiago, where he’s standing to my right, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the hospital.

Fear pours into my chest, and I freeze in place, my breathing instantly turning shallow.

“Hi, Ciara,” he says, his tone deceptively gentle. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Am I allowed to?

He pushes away from the wall, and as he closes the distance between us, I notice the pair of pumps in his hand. He sets the shoes down beside me, then tilts his head. “Put them on.”

Staring at the shoes, I’m overcome with an intense emotion I can’t name. My chin quivers, and I suck in a shaky breath.

“I haven’t had shoes in a really long time,” I whisper. “Is it really okay for me to put them on?”

“Yes,” he answers, his voice sounding a little rougher than usual. When I dare to glance at him, he gives me an encouraging smile. “It will make me very happy if you put on the shoes.”

My muscles are incredibly tense as I push my feet into the pumps.

Suddenly, Santiago starts to walk, and when I stare after him, he calls, “Come, Ciara.”

I hurry to catch up, staying a step behind him. I glance down at the tattoos covering his forearms, but I can’t make out what the images are.

When we get close to one of the houses where two women are standing, watching us, I focus my gaze on my feet.

No one talks to us, and I’m surprised when we keep walking for a long while. Santiago turns left, and soon, the houses fall behind us, and we head up a hill.

When we reach the top, my legs are burning from all the exercise, and I struggle to catch my breath.

Santiago finally stops walking then says, “Look behind you.”

Glancing over my shoulder, my mouth drops open when I see the entire village.

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