Falling With Grace

Grace

Steam billowed, rising to the mirror and shrouding my reflection, softening the severe black circles below my eyes and concealing the healing bruise on my cheek. I swiped across the misted surface, my fingers smudging the moisture, inducing water droplets to cascade down the silvery glass.

Each breath of the thick air left a weight settling in my lungs. Tightening the robe’s rope across my hungry belly, I braced myself for the lingering aftermath.

I could do this.

I could walk downstairs and eat like a normal human being.

I could sit by the pool.

I could tend the garden with Rosa.

Would he even allow me around her?

Conflict threaded through my dull green eyes, the skin beside my lips etched with the wrinkles of stress.

Despite the damage inflicted by the mats and the dirt caked into my skull, my hair gleamed after three scrubbings yesterday evening and another a few moments ago.

Brushing my hair hadn’t taken as long as it did with Rosa, but my weak muscles tired halfway through. I switched to my non-dominant hand, and by the time I finished, my muscles quivered with exhaustion, and my shoulder ached.

I stared at myself in the mirror a moment longer before running my hands over my face, sucked in a ragged breath, then opened the bathroom door.

My eyes flicked to the two men standing across from me, their hands poised in front as if I might draw a weapon and execute them both. Elias instructed them to stand outside my door, and when I emerged, they trailed in silence.

Chills cascaded over my skin, bare feet padding across the marble as I hastened to my bedroom door, clicking it shut with a softsnick.The echo of their booted footsteps halted behind me.

The room’s natural overhead lights bathed the space in a soft glow, complemented by the three lamps—one on each bedside table and another on the dresser.

Flipping the closet light on, I selected a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, underwear, and a bra, along with some white socks, each fitting with surprising ease.

How did he know my size?

The baggy clothes Rosa had dressed me in during her ‘breakout’ mission were relics from her youth, discovered in a hall closet—a box filled with more boxes, housing an array of male clothing and knick-knacks.

Shuffling around, I seized the sneakers and slipped them over my feet, my shoulder aching with the motion.

Standing, I rose to my tiptoes and bounced, assessing the feel and comfort, then sauntered towards the bed.

Three A.M.

The world was asleep, but my mind ran a million miles a second.

Why was I here… in this room?

What’s the catch?

What else did he have planned for me?

Would I ever be able to leave… alive?

My backside sank into the edge of the mattress as I settled, the tips of my shoes grazing the floor.

Nausea twisted in my belly as I gazed out the window into the enveloping darkness.

What would happen when the sun came up?

Would those men still be there?