• AMALIA •
I continue to run, blocking out the burn in my legs and the horrific pain in my abdomen. The streets are practically deserted, with no one to go to. No one to beg for help. The phone is long gone now, discarded somewhere, and with it is any hope of talking to my dad so he can help me through this.
I just need to find someone—anyone who's trustworthy. Maybe I should go to a police station, but I didn't see a flash of one on the drive here, nor can I spot one now. So I just keep pumping my legs, thinking of my dad, of my brothers, of the rest of my family (and, of course, Petal) and what'll happen when I finally reach them, however long that may take.
I don't dare stop. I wrap my aunts jacket tighter around me, feeling my pocket to ensure that I have my anti rejection medication with me. If I don't get back to my family today, then at least I'll have these. I don't want anyone else to have to give up their kidney for me if my body rejects this one.
After a couple minutes, I begin to whimper due to the agony. But I don't stop, the pain only motivating me to go further.
Tears fall freely down my cheeks, finally able to be let out. It's becoming morning, I think. Which means I would've been asleep for a long time, therefore I should have a renewed energy.
The more I say it to myself, the more I believe it. My pace quickens, and when I think of everything I have to get back to, I become the quickest runner there is. The adrenaline blocks out all the pain, thankfully, but I know it'll catch up with me soon. Hopefully when it does, my dad will be able to rock it away and there'll be people around me to help send it away.
I don't wait for the lights to turn green when I get to a main road—which is risky, I know, but I don't know if Lexie is following me, and she's a grown adult who didn't just get a surgery, so she had the ultimate upper hand.
I shiver against the cold as I continue to run. It's freezing, and it's only now that I register the pain in my feet. I'm not wearing any shoes, only the hospital socks I was wearing when I was taken, which do a little bit to soften the blow as rocks and jagged ends of things attempt to pierce my feet.
I glance behind me, eyes widening when I see Lexie and Briana's car, the latter in the drivers seat but the former nowhere to be seen. I let out a strangled sob as I turn a corner, then another. Briana's car is forced to wait at a red light when one suddenly comes up in front of her.
My lips tilt up. Maybe God's finally on my side.
As I run down the next street, I begin to notice familiar things, then I pause.
This is where I used to live.
I slow my run into a fast paced walk, and I'm about to try and remember if I can go to anybody when I see Briana's car. I turn and hide in a random garden, hoping and praying that she didn't see me.
When I hear her car go past, I let out a sigh of relief, mixed with a sob. Instead of exploring my old street—which is full of bad memories—I bolt out of the garden once I can no longer see her car down the street and begin to run back the way I came.
• LORENZO •
"Amalia? Amalia? Hello?"
The phone cuts off. My eyes water. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I refresh my laptop, but when it doesn't come back with Amalia's location—which I attempted to track while she was talking—punch the screen, knocking it onto the floor and breaking it.
A moment later my door opens and Elijah looks in. He glances down at my broken laptop with worry. "What happened?" He asks.
"Amalia was on the phone."
His eyebrows practically raise into his hairline. "What?"
"And then it fucking cut off." I add. His hopeful expression disintegrates until it's turned into some sort of guilt. "She said she's at a motel. But there's about forty just in the area—"
"I'll get on it." He says, then rushes out of the room. I sigh and put my head in my hands.
• AMALIA •
I walk for hours. I don't come across any more familiar buildings, nor anyone who looks kind enough that they'd lend me a phone.
I don't even know where I'm going. I might be walking away from Oxford, instead of toward it. Toward my family, friends. Everyone I know and care about, and the only people who care about me.
I decide to take a break on a bench in an empty park only once I'm certain that I'm not being followed anymore. But then I look up, and I realise that I recognise the place where I am.
And it's not that far from home.
• COLE •
I exhale a sigh as I cut up my sandwich into squares.
I'm not even hungry. There's just nothing else to do but eat, and my grandma keeps insisting that I do. So I am.
I bite the end of one of the squares off and lean onto the counter, sighing again as I look out at the back garden. My eyes land on Amalia's greenhouse. I frown before abandoning my food and walking over to the back door, pulling it open before making my way toward it.
I open the door and look for her little water sprayer. I grab it off her workbench and begin to spray all of the plants with water, giving a few extra spritzes to the ones that look especially droopy.
Once I'm done, I stare out of the glass aimlessly.
• LORENZO •
"Step on the fucking petrol." I tell Pietro, who scowls at me but does. The car begins to go faster, and I glance at Elijah in the rear view mirror.
Twenty minutes ago he came into my study with the name of a motel. We called it and we're told that there's a name registered under Romano, so we're going there now. If Amalia didn't manage to escape, then my guess is that she'll be there, since the man on the phone didn't say they had signed out yet.
My leg bounces anxiously as I wait. When we stop at a red light, my impatience and fury grows.
"Fucking hell." I mumble.
"I'm going as fast as I can." Pietro says defensively.
"Is that what you tell Aunt Leah?" Elijah mumbles.
Pietro glares daggers at my son. I crack a small smile, but it vanishes instantly when the lights switch to green and Pietro doesn't immediately go.
"Fuck you." He mumbles. Elijah laughs, diffusing some of the tension in the car. But not enough to make me relax.
• COLE •
This sandwich tastes bad.
It's only now, when I'm eating the fourth square, that I realise.
I make myself eat it anyway, but as I chew, I wonder wether Amalia has eaten. Did they give her food? Was it good food, or was it as shitty as this sandwich.
My dad and Elijah left about half an hour ago. They said they're going to the work office, to overlook something related to Amalia. I didn't listen, refusing to give myself hope, when all of it is practically lost now.
I finish the sandwich and wash the plate it was on before putting it back in the cupboard.
Mason comes into the room. I glance up at him. He's holding Petal again, and I begin to notice that he never lets go of her, as though it's the only thing he has left of our sister.
I suppose it is.
"Hey." He says, voice oddly soft. "I'm taking her on a little walk. You wanna come?"
I consider it for a moment. I'm dressed—it's the only thing that'll keep me out of bed, since I hate sleeping in my clothes—and there's absolutely fuck else I've got to do.
I shrug. "Okay."
He smiles and opens the cabinet where dad let Amalia put all of Petal's stuff. The chihuahuas tail begins to wag when she sees Mason take out the small pink harness and matching leash. He sets her on the counter before putting both on her.
He lifts her up, then sets her onto the floor. She barks excitedly before storming for the door. Mason is barely able to take hold of her leash before she runs off. I follow them both out into the hallway, then out of the house.
We walk in complete silence to a small dog park, and when we get there I sit beside Mason on a bench in one of the gated off areas. He unclips Petals leash, giving her free range of the space, but she stays by his feet.
"Mase." I say. He looks at me.
"Hm?"
"Are you high?"
He turns to me with a guilty expression. "Maybe."
I crack a smile as he pulls a small tin out of his pocket, as well as a lighter. He opens it, revealing stacked joints. My eyebrows raise in surprise as he lights one.
"Isn't that illegal?"
"I'm epileptic. It's allowed."
I forgot about that. He doesn't talk about it much, though, what's there to talk about? I remember that it's hardly severe, and I think the last time it effected him was a few years ago.
Still, how could I have forgotten such a big detail about my brothers life?
I sigh and lean back on the metal bench.
"And anyway, it helps keep stress at bay." He says, putting it to his lips and inhaling. I can see the moment he begins to relax all over again.
I glance away. I think all of us are stressed, but someone should've considered how it might've affected him. He's the one who could have a seizure if it gets too bad. The thing is, I don't think he'd tell anyone if it got to that point.
"Do you think Amalia's okay?" I ask quietly.
I feel his eyes bore a hole into the side of my head. He nods immediately. "I think she's scared. But I don't think she's showing it."
I picture my little sister, and for a moment I think he's wrong, but then I remember everything we've discovered that she's been through—and most likely more she hasn't shared with anyone yet—and I have to agree. She survived abuse and so much more. She'll survive this too.
I just hope she doesn't lose part of herself on the way. Despite having never really talked to her, her little smiles and laughs make my day.
I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I never got to tell her that.
"Why would Briana do all this?" I ask.
He laughs, but it's humourless. "'Cause she's fucking psycho."
• AMALIA •
I hum to myself quietly as I walk down the path toward my front door.
I twist the doorknob and smile when it opens. I expect my dad to be waiting for me at the door, but he isn't there. I frown and walk over to his study, since he's always there, but when I walk inside that's empty, too.
I decide instead to go into the kitchen, pausing when I see Briana standing behind the counter, a bloody knife in her hand.
And on the floor is Grayson, with blood pouring from his stomach.
•
I lurch awake, sweaty and panicked. I look around for the bloody knife, realising with a start that I'm not in my house.
I'm in the motel room.
Tied to the bed.
What?
I try to think back to what happened. My eyes cloud with tears when I remember—I was running as fast as I could when something heavy slammed down on the back of my head, making me fall onto the hard floor.
I realise with a start that it was all a dream. That I never really had a chance of escaping.
This time, I finally let myself cry.
AUTHORS NOTE: I added Florence + The Machine at the top of the thing for the vibes, but I guess it doesn't really correlate when you read the end.
Anyways, thanks for reading this chapter!
I also realise that some of the medical information in the story may not be correct. I'm sorry for that, I'm getting all my information from Google so it may not all be right! Thanks to the people in the comments correcting me <3