It feels like an invisible hand is clenching hold of my heart. I narrow my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but I feel like I’m about to fucking lose it. “Who? Who told you I’d come for them?”
Natalia grits her teeth together, scowling at me. “Who do you think? Your sister. Laura told me that you’d come. Now get your fucking hands off me so we can talk.”
******
“She’s dead.”
Natalia doesn’t pull any punches. She just comes straight out with it. We’re sitting at a counter in the kitchen—Natalia insists there are no cameras in here—and she’s brewing tea. Her machete sits on the counter beside the kettle. Neither of us wants or needs the tea, but this way we have an excuse for being in here if we’re found. “She was here for years. I’m not supposed to get friendly with any of the girls who show up here and get transported up into that room, but she was here for so long that it seemed inevitable. During the times when there were no guests at the house, no parties being held, my father sometimes lets the men and women from the blue room read in the library. Laura and I would meet there and talk. I wanted to know about the States, because…well, because I don’t know anything about my mother. I don’t know anything about where she came from. And Laura told me about you. From the very first time we spoke, she insisted you were going to come and get her.”
“And now she’s dead?” I can’t believe it. Can’t seem to make sense of it. It can’t be the case. “My friend spoke with her on the phone a little over three months ago. She can’t be dead.”
“She can.” Natalia reaches across the counter and takes hold of my hand. “She is.”
“Then how? How did Jamie speak to her?”
“My father records all of his guests when they first arrive here, as proof of life. Sometimes, if he finds out the girl or the guy is from a wealthy family, he will make a ransom request and send them back home. When Laura arrived, he found out your father was some big lawyer or something. He was going to ask for a ransom, but then…I don’t know. He decided to keep her. He didn’t want to let her go after all, so he kept her. It happens all the time. He doesn’t like to let go of his prizes.”
I feel like I’m about to throw up. So…the voice Jamie heard on the phone was Laura’s? And she was asking for his help? But the plea was recorded years ago? Can it be true? It makes sense that Fernando would make recordings of his kidnap victims as proof of life. And Julio never said he’d actually seen Laura, just that he’d been shown her picture as part of a portfolio of women he could pick from in exchange for his own woman, Alaska.
“When? When did she die?” I ask. My voice is hard. I barely recognize it.
“Three years ago.” Natalia looks like she’s about to burst into tears.
“How?”
“Cade—”
I get to my feet. “Fucking tell me. Right now.”
“Overdose. Some of the other girls here drink and do drugs, to cope with…” She trails off, clearly uncomfortable with voicing the realities of her father’s actions. “Laura didn’t, though. She always wanted to have a clear head. She was always looking for ways to escape. And then her friend Sylvia got caught running from the house one night, and my father…”
“He punished her?”
Natalia nods. “He fed her to the wolves.”
“And my sister couldn’t take it anymore?”
Natalia looks down at the two mugs of piping hot tea in front of us. Her eyes are shining brightly, filled with tears. “I loved Laura. She looked out for me. She helped me once, when one of my father’s men thought they would try to take me. She stabbed him in the neck with a letter opener. I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t found us.”
I sit in silence, staring at the grain in the marble counter, doing my best to tune out the loud, high-pitched screaming that’s filling my head. I can’t hear anything around it, though. I can’t seem to think in a straight line. Everything is jumbled and confused. I feel like I’m barely holding onto my sanity.
“Cade? That is your name, isn’t it?”
My head snaps up, and I find Natalia standing in front of me; I didn’t even notice her slip around the counter.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I hate my father. I am nothing like him. If I could have left, I would have a long time ago. But I am a lot like Laura and those other girls upstairs, Cade. I’m watched over twenty-four hours a day. There’s no way out for me. Nowhere to run to.”
“You’re not.”
She gives me a puzzled look. “I’m not what?”
“You’re not like my sister and those other girls upstairs. Your father’s never made you spread your legs for a man while other people watch on. You’ve never been beaten and abused, and forced to do things repeatedly against your will.”
Her expression turns dark. I see the flicker of pain in her eye, the twitch of the muscle in her jaw, and I know before she even opens her mouth that I’ve spoken out of turn. Her words come out as a whisper. “Hasn’t he?”
I jerk back. “He wouldn’t let any of those fuckers near you. He’s so fucking protective of you.”
“Oh, he is. And you’re right. He doesn’t let any of them near me.”