Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
His soft gaze was worried, a typical Dad expression. I’d expected a different expression after he’d watched the video, but he still looked at me like he’d always done. To him, I was still the Sara from this morning, but I could tell she was already gone.
My sisters’ chatter woke me. I sat up slowly in my bed, wincing at the soreness between my legs. I still felt sluggish. Last night had been the first time I’d ever taken something to help me sleep. Despite being scared of possible nightmares, I’d been even more desperate for the day to end.
The effects of the sleeping pills still seemed to have a hold on my body. With a deep breath, I forced myself to get up. Mornings meant new beginnings, a chance for something good to happen. That had always been a firm belief of mine, and I wouldn’t allow anything to change that.
I got dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the weekend, so I didn’t have any classes. Still, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept until almost noon. I wasn’t a partygoer, so I usually woke up early.
Following my sisters’ fighting, I left my room and found them in Inessa’s room. Inessa was seven years and Alea was nine years younger than me. They argued all the time.
I leaned against the doorframe of their shared room and watched them as they argued over a broken hairband. They both had inherited Mom’s dark blond hair, but where Inessa’s eyes were blue, Alea’s were brown like mine.
Alea was the first one to notice me. She fell silent, soon followed by Inessa, who stopped midsentence.
“Sara!” Alea shouted and rushed toward me. The air left my lungs when she collided with my belly. I hugged her with a small smile. Inessa joined us and hugged me too. She looked at my face. “Are you hurt?”
I’d asked my parents to keep the details of my captivity from them. They were too young to understand. I could only hope nobody told them about the video. My belly did a flip, and for a moment, I was sure I’d throw up.
“I’m okay,” I said.
I needed them to believe it so I could start believing it too.
“We were so scared!” Alea exclaimed.
I nodded. I’d never understood the true meaning of fear, of stark, body-numbing fear until yesterday. I prayed my sisters would never experience it.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Cooking,” Inessa said.
I should probably consider eating something as I hadn’t had anything in twenty-four hours. I wasn’t sure my stomach was ready for anything, though.
I headed to the kitchen, where Mom was busy preparing minestrone for lunch. The kitchen smelled of the intense vegetable and parmesan broth. I drew in a deep breath, letting happy memories from the past flood me. I had so many wonderful memories. I just needed to make sure they would beat the one dark one I’d added to the list yesterday.
“Sara’s finally up!” Alea announced as she and Inessa entered the kitchen after me.
Mom whirled around, her eyes locking on me. The concern in her eyes was so strong, I was sure even Alea and Inessa couldn’t miss it.
“Are you hungry?”
I shook my head. My belly still felt as if I was in a boat during a heavy storm.
“You should eat,” Mom encouraged gently. The plea in her voice finally won me over. I could only imagine how much she worried about me. I didn’t want to give her another reason.
“How can I resist your minestrone?” I took a seat at the wooden table. Most days, we had breakfast and lunch in our big kitchen. We only ate dinner in the living room when Dad and Flavio joined us.
Inessa, Alea, and Mom joined me at the table, and we dug in. Despite my nausea, I forced a few spoons of soup down. It tasted as delicious as always, but I simply couldn’t eat more. I leaned back and enjoyed Alea and Inessa’s bickering. Those two loved each other dearly, but not a day passed when they didn’t fight.
A message lit up Mom’s phone from where it rested on the table beside her bowl of soup. She usually didn’t allow phones at the table. Maybe Dad and Flavio were sending her updates.
The screen lit up again just when Mom pulled it away from the table, obviously to hide it from me. Too late.
Paolo’s father.
Oh god. I hadn’t thought about Paolo at all since my conversation with Mom in the car. Paolo, my fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry in two months, in a wedding our mothers had planned for over a year.
Mom gave me a tight smile. Did she really think I hadn’t seen who had written her?
“They know?”
Mom nodded. “They were just asking how you feel.”
If that were the case, why did Mom hide her phone the moment she saw who it was?