Chapter 7: The Exchange

7

My thoughts drifted back from the distant past. Caleb was no longer by my side.

Marcus’s car was still moving, the scenery outside growing ever more desolate. This didn’t look like a place to eat steak.

Finally, the car stopped in front of an abandoned factory.

Marcus had his men watch Chloe and brought me inside.

"Before steak, there’s a little job to do," he said. "The cops caught my brother. I agreed to a hostage exchange—use you to get him back."

He turned on his walkie-talkie and ordered, "Snipers in position. As soon as the exchange ends, when the cops take Lillian, open fire. Leave none alive."

He yanked my hair. "Tell me, will the one coming to make the exchange be Caleb Walker? The Caleb you’re always thinking of?"

I laughed. You’d better hope it’s not him. He’ll make you pay.

My smile infuriated him. His face twisted with rage. "You damned traitor!"

Strange. How am I a traitor? I never betrayed what I believed in.

Sweat trickled down my spine. Every gun in the room seemed pointed at my heart. The tension was suffocating.

"Mar... Marcus."

For the first time in five years, I spoke.

"Let... let Tommy go. Let those two officers leave."

He glanced at me coldly. "Why?"

"I’m not leaving. I’ll go with you."

He ignored me.

I slowly knelt down, begging, "Don’t let me go. I want you. I want Chloe. The three of us, let’s run away together, okay?"

His stony face softened a little. He finally lowered his eyes and set the gun down.

"Let Tommy go. The two officers, get out!"

On the way back, Marcus’s face was dark and silent.

Chloe was quiet too, playing obediently with her toy—a plastic gun.

Back at the house, Marcus said, "Tanya, take Chloe upstairs!"

Tanya came and led Chloe away.

Marcus turned and slapped me.

"You want to be Chloe’s mother? You’re not worthy!" He grabbed my neck. "If Caleb Walker doesn’t show, I’ll kill you sooner or later, you monster!"

I just smiled, blood from my nose flowing into my mouth, staining my teeth red. I must have looked like a demon.

Marcus let go, and I collapsed to the floor.

They sent me back to the basement.

Familiar darkness, familiar dampness, familiar silence. Somehow, I felt a little safer there.

I curled up in the corner, dazed.

After five years in confinement, I’d learned to pass the days and nights in a stupor.

In that haze, memories would rise—overlapping, twisting, tearing apart before my eyes. Caleb, Marcus, my father and mother, my foster parents—they all appeared, so vivid I couldn’t tell dream from reality.

Clang, clang.

The steel door clanged again. It wasn’t mealtime. Who was it?

A flashlight beam swept in. Behind the glare, I saw a woman’s graceful silhouette.

It was Tanya.

"Lillian Hayes, come here."

She beckoned me to the bars.

She slipped a plastic bag into my hand.

"These are painkillers. Maybe they’ll help a little."

I didn’t understand why she was suddenly being kind.

Before she left, I asked her to leave the flashlight.

I took a photo from under my pillow and, by the flashlight’s glow, looked at the person in the picture.

The only photo he left me.

Handsome in his police uniform, bright eyes, a sunny smile.

Caleb, it’s been so long since I last saw you.

My thoughts drifted back, once more, to five years ago.

I lay in the cold, concrete dark, running my thumb over the worn corner of Caleb’s photo. The hum of a distant train reminded me of the outside world, of freedom. For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to remember the feel of the sun on my face and the sound of his laugh. Even locked away in the black heart of America’s underbelly, I clung to that memory—one last thread, keeping me human. But outside that door, the world was changing. And this time, I wasn’t sure anyone was coming.