I struggle to break free, but their grip is like a vice. My heart races like a wild animal, and my mind spins with questions. Who are these people? Why are they doing this?
I’m manhandled and pushed into the cab I had stopped to hail, my body flailing wildly as I try to break free. I try to shout, “Leave me the fuck alone!” but my voice is muffled by the cloth covering my face.
I attempt to move my hand to pull it off, but I’m shocked to find my wrist bound by a cold metal cuff.
My mind races with thoughts of my life being threatened. Fear grips me. I think about all the milestones my son will reach without me. His first day of school, his graduation, his wedding day… I’ll never get to see them.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I think about my mom. She’ll think I’m fine, but how long will it take her to realize something’s wrong? Will she ever find out what happened to me?
Ethan’s face flashes in my mind. How will he feel when he finds out I’ve been taken? Will he be scared? Will he miss me?
Logan’s words echo in my head, “You’re in bed with very dangerous people who want you dead.”
I thrash against my restraints, but as I struggle, I realize it’s futile. The car speeds on, taking me farther away from safety, and I’m consumed by fear.
Time loses meaning as the car continues to move. Minutes feel like an eternity. I’m trapped, helpless, and at the mercy of these men.
The car turns again, and I’m thrown against the door.
The car finally screeches to a halt, and I’m yanked out, my legs wobbly.
I stumble, but rough hands hold me up, forcing me to move. I’m dragged, half-walking, half-carried, into a dark unknown.
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierces my skin, like a needle stabbing into my flesh. I gasp, and my world goes blank.
My last thought is a desperate cry for help, but it’s trapped in my mind, unable to escape.
********
The door creaks open, and I stir, groggily regaining consciousness. Footsteps approach, echoing off the walls. I try to remember how long I’ve been out, but my mind is a blur.
Then, I heard a familiar voice. “Hey, wake up.”
My heart skips a beat as I try to respond, but my face is still covered. I mumble, trying to call out, “Sydney?”
The voice replies, “One and only.”
My blood runs cold in fear, but I force myself to shake it off. Now’s not the time to be afraid; it’s time to fight for survival.
Sydney lifts the covering from my face, and I gasp in surprise, my eyes locking onto hers. My theory was right – it was Sydney’s voice I heard.
But her smile is far from reassuring. It’s devious, sending a chill down my spine.
“What do you want?” I don’t want to waste time on small talk; I need to know what she’s after.
Sydney’s smile widens. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”
Her hand crashes against my cheek, the sound ringing in my ears like a bell. The impact sets my blood ablaze, and I erupt in fury. I try to launch myself at her, but my body is jerked back by the chains.
I’m trapped, unable to move, unable to fight back. But my voice is free, and I use it to unleash my rage. “You wouldn’t dare do that to me if I wasn’t chained,” I snarl.
But as I speak, I wonder if it’s me talking. My voice sounds strange like it belongs to someone else who’s been unleashed by Sydney’s cruelty.
Memories of the Sydney I met at work flooded my mind – the one who helped me with IT issues, the one who took me in during my darkest hour, the one who cared for me and my baby during pregnancy and after delivery.
But Sydney is nowhere to be found. Instead, I’m faced with a stranger who looks like her but acts like a monster.
I gather the spit in my mouth and launch it at her face. “Fuck you!” With a trembling voice.
She raises her hand again, and I feel the sting of her slap, harder than the first. My cheek burns, but I look her straight in the eye and ask, “Why?”
Why is she doing this? Why is she hurting me? Why is she destroying the trust and love we once shared? I need to know.
She bursts out laughing, clearly amused by my defiance. “Oh, you want to know,” she says, “Are you sure you want me to tell you?”
I nod my head, looking her straight in the eye. I can see hatred burning in her gaze, and I wonder if she’s always looked at me like this when I wasn’t paying attention.
“I don’t even know what to call you, Is it Nadine or Isabelle?” She spits out the names.
Her laughter grows louder, and I can see the venom in her eyes. “I hate your guts, after what you did to me…”
I erupt in anger, “I’m not Isabelle, you dimwit!” But my words are met with another stinging slap, forcing my head to turn to the side.
Sydney’s eyes flash with fury, “You don’t talk when I do,” she growls.
She continues to taunt me, “I waited this long, hoping you’d get your memory back, but it seems you’re just getting dumber by the day.”
Everything she says sounds like gibberish to me. I want to scream, to tell her she’s got the wrong person, but I bite my tongue, the pain from the slaps still fresh.
Why is she calling me Isabelle? What memory is she talking about? I’m lost in a sea of confusion, and Sydney’s words only add to the chaos. I remain silent, my eyes fixed on her, trying to make sense of the madness unfolding before me.
“How do you want your death? Slowly and painfully?” She takes a step closer. “I’ll never forgive you for what you did to my baby brother. You took his life and ran away, and now you claim you’re not Isabelle?”
I shake my head slowly, trying to process the accusations. My mind races as I think about my life ending in an instant. But I’m biding my time, waiting for her to reveal everything, to know the enemy.
Sydney’s voice cracks with emotion, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted a baby brother? Finally, I got him, and you took his life.” She takes another step closer, a knife glinting in her hand. She presses the blade to my neck, and I close my eyes tightly, feeling the blood slowly seep out.
As she applies more pressure, I focus on my hands, trying to subtly loosen the cuffs. I concentrate on the feeling of the metal sliding away from my skin. The pain from the knife is intense, but I won’t give in. I’ll wait for the perfect moment to strike back.
Just as Sydney’s knife digs deeper into my skin, the door bursts open with a loud crash. My eyes widen in shock as I gaze at the person standing in the doorway. “Ethan,” my voice barely audible.