I knew I wasn't coming out of this alive the moment I reached the airport. Everything felt wrong the way the guards escorted me to the plane like a package, the way their eyes stayed cold and unreadable. They handed me off to another group of men on arrival as if I were just an object changing hands. Escape wasn't an option.
My mind drifted constantly. To Zayden. To Kairo's words in his journal. To my parents, who had raised me yet seemed so far away now. A lump pressed into my throat.
The flight was long nine, maybe ten hours and every second stretched. When the plane finally landed, a car was waiting. It carried us up a steep hill, through iron gates that closed behind us with a deep metallic clang. The moment they attached a device to my ankle, I knew. This wasn't control. It was imprisonment. It wasn't just bad. These people were evil.
And yet, even then, my mind flickered to escape plans, futile, half-formed dreams of slipping away and getting home. But where would I start? I had nothing on me. No passport. No money. Just a heart full of guilt and a body too tired to fight.
A knock rattled my door. My hands trembled as I yanked it open. A housekeeper stood there, silent, a phone in hand. She offered it to me without a word.
I pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Aria."
Relief and panic warred in my chest. "Zayden?" My voice cracked, a lump rising instantly.
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" His voice was urgent, rough.
I shook my head before realizing he couldn't see me. "I'm fine. Just imprisoned." My words came out in a rush. "How are you talking to me right now? Did they let you go? Are you okay?"
"I struck a deal, Aria," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I don't know a way out. Every move I make ends up at a dead end. I'm helpless and—"
"Zayden." I cut him off in a whisper.
"I understand," I whispered again, eyes burning.
"I'll try to get you out," he promised. "I won't let you down. I won't repeat the same mistake."
I bit my lip, shaking my head. "Don't promise what you can't give."
"I'll try, even if it costs me my life. I will mend everything. Every single bad thing I did."
I blinked back tears. "Don't be reckless and make it worse. Those who died…" My voice broke.
A quiet, pained sound came from his end.
"They're already gone. I don't hate you, Zayden. I can't. You didn't kill Kairo. He died protecting you," I whispered.
"Don't say that," he rasped. His voice was hoarse, thick with remorse.
"It's the truth. It's there in his journal," I whispered, just as the door opened.
"I will make amends." His determination was clear, cutting through the static.
"I have to go, I guess." I ended the call and handed the phone back to the guard, who left without a word.
I hugged myself, staring at the wall. What was happening out there? Did anyone even know I was missing? Was my face on a poster somewhere, or had my parents not even noticed? A bitter laugh rose in my throat. They probably didn't care.
Days turned into weeks. My body began to weaken for reasons I couldn't name. When I requested to see a doctor, the guard gave no answer, his eyes sliding away from mine like I hadn't spoken. I could barely carry myself around anymore.
One night, I woke up drenched in sweat, shaking violently. I dragged myself to the door, desperate to call for help, but collapsed before my fingers reached the handle. Darkness swallowed me whole.
When I came to, I only opened my eyes halfway. Voices drifted over me.
"Reduce the dosage," Zayden's uncle ordered. His voice was unmistakable. "He just needs to sign the papers and we clean things up."
"Will he sign it?" another voice asked.
"I promised her freedom. He's naïve and in love. He will definitely sign it."
My heart thudded. I stayed frozen on the bed.
"Make it five milliliters and give her more milk. It slows down the drug's reaction," his uncle instructed. Clicking shoes. Silence.
Poison. They were poisoning me. Slowly. Methodically. They had never intended to let me live.
Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes. So this was my fate. Like my brother, I was destined to die in the hands of cruel people.
At breakfast, I stared at the milk they always gave me. Was it in the milk? The food? Both?
"Eat." The guard's rough voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"I'm not hungry," I whispered.
He picked up a piece of toast and shoved it toward me with a look that said he'd force it down my throat if he had to.
I swallowed hard and took the toast, trying not to reveal what I knew. My stomach churned.
"Drink everything." He pushed the glass of milk into my hand.
A dark thought crept in. What if I don't drink it? What if I let the poison work fast instead of slow?
"Drink up," he growled.
I looked at him, then at the milk. My hands shook. Finally, I raised it to my lips and drank every drop, sliding back under the sheets afterward, my body feeling like a stranger's.
Days blurred together. The same routine. The same poison. My body felt weaker, sicker, and my mind floated between hope and despair.
One afternoon, lying with my back to the door, it burst open. The sound jolted me. I turned.
He stood there.
Zayden.
Staring at me like he couldn't believe his eyes.
For a heartbeat, my mind went blank. He looked… alive. Whole, apart from the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed fine. But I wasn't. And he didn't know.
He rushed to me. "Are you sick?" His palm pressed against my forehead.
I shook my head weakly.
His frown deepened as his eyes searched mine. "Something's not right," he whispered.
Before I could answer, his uncle appeared in the doorway, paper in hand. "You've seen her."
"Yeah, but..."
"Sign it and you both are free," his uncle cut him off.
"Can I speak to him alone? Just a few minutes?" I asked.
His uncle grumbled but dropped the paper and left.
Zayden's eyes burned into mine. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm being poisoned."
He gave me a once-over, his expression shifting into something I had never seen before raw terror and rage mixing into one.