The bell came again.

I know that sound…but from where.

I was tired and sore. I didn’t want to move ever again but deep inside, I managed to find the strength to uncurl from my nest of bedding and reach under my pillow.

Could it be?

My fingers latched around my phone, my heart trading cymbals for drums. The rhythm clanged uncertainly, drenched in malady and doing its best to keep me alive. My nose was stuffy, eyes watery, body achy.

I was sick.

Along with my hope, my body had given in, catching dreaded germs and shackling me to yet another weakness.

I’d come down with the flu four days ago. A day after Bonnie told me what would happen. Twenty-four hours after I’d seen what’d happened to Elisa in those feared photographs. But none of that mattered if the bell signalled what I so fiercely needed.

For days, I’d hoped to hear from him. But every day, I was disappointed. I drained my battery so many times, trancing myself with the soft blue glow, willing a message to appear.

I squinted in the dark, malnourished and fading from what I’d endured. Luckily, the fever had crested this morning. I’d managed a warm shower, and changed the bedding. I was weak and wobbly but still clinging to Jethro’s promise.

I’m waiting for you. I’m still here.

The screen lit up. My heart sprouted new life, and I smiled for the first time in an eternity.

Unknown Number: Answer me. Tell me you’re okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay. I need to hear from you. I need to know you’re still mine.

I dropped the phone.

And burst into tears.

For so long, the world outside Hawksridge had been dark. No messages from my father. No emails from my assistants. I’d been dead already—not worthy of vibrations or chimes of correspondence.

But I wasn’t dead.

Not yet.

No matter how many times I died in my awful nightmares, I was still here.

Jethro had found a way to text me.

Sniffing and swiping at tears with the back of my hand, it took a few minutes before I could corral my fingers into replying.

Needle&Thread: I’m okay. More than okay now I know you’re okay.

I pressed send.

My sickness and fever no longer mattered. If I ignored it, it would go away. I didn’t have time to be sick now Jethro had given me an incentive to get better.

Is he coming for me?

Could it all be over?

I wanted to say so much, but suddenly, I had nothing to share. I couldn’t tell him about the past few days. I would never share because I didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already was.

My mind skipped backward, forcing me to relive the horror ever since Bonnie showed me Owen and Elisa’s fate.

My door opened.

Jasmine sat with one hand on the doorknob and the other around her wheel rim. “Nila…”

The moment I saw her, I knew something awful was about to happen. My spine locked and the beaded fabric I’d been working on fell from my hands. “No. Whatever it is, I won’t do it.”

She dropped her eyes. “You have no choice.”

I shot to my feet. “I do have a choice. A choice of free will. Whatever that witch thinks she can do to me, she can’t!”

Jasmine huddled in her chair—an odd mix of apologetic frustration. “She can and she will.” Her bronze gaze met mine. “I’ve kept you out of Daniel’s hands but I can’t keep you out of Bonnie’s. I’ve given you all the time I could.” She looked away, her voice filling with foreboding. “It’s going to get worse, Nila. I’ve never been told the exact details of the debts—I’m not a man, and therefore, Bonnie insisted I be protected from such violence—but I do know Cut is planning something big. I need to find a way to save you before…”

I didn’t want to listen but her anguish gave me strength. “You need me to stall by giving in...”

“Yes.” She sighed heavily. “Forgive me, but I have no choice—just like you. No matter what you think.”

I had no reply. But my body did. A last ditch attempt at fleeing.

My feet moved on their own accord, backing away until I stood against the wall. I wanted to scream and fight. I wanted to shove her out the door and lock it forever.

But there was nowhere to hide. No one to save me. Only time could do that. Time that neither Jasmine, Jethro, Vaughn, nor myself had.

“Have you heard from him?” My hands fisted against my denim-clad legs. The large grey jumper I wore couldn’t thaw the ice around my heart. My mind kept splicing images of Jethro and Owen. Elisa and myself.

Their demise had been terrible—especially hers.

Bonnie told me my punishment would begin immediately. She hadn’t lied.

“No.” She rolled further over the threshold. “We agreed to minimum contact. It’s for the best.”

That made sense, even though it was the hardest thing in the world.

If only I could talk to him. It would make me so much braver.

“Nila, come with me. Don’t let her see your fear any more than you have to. It will hurt but it won’t harm you. I give you my word. You’ve withstood worse.”

“I’ve endured worse because I knew it hurt Jethro to hurt me. It gave me strength in a way.”

She smiled sadly. “I know he’s not here to share your pain, but I am. I won’t leave you.” Swivelling her chair to face the door, she held out her hand. “I’ll take his place. We’ll get through it together.”