94 – Partial Decision

94 – Partial Decision


Leonor…

I was right to think Damien set this trap for me. It must be his way of training me for this world, but nothing convinces me he’s doing it to punish me for something I don’t even know I did.

He and his two sick-in-the-head siblings discuss the distribution as if this absurd situation were nothing more than people planning a lunch.

I want to throw up. I want to scream. I want to run, throw myself into the sea and swim until I find solid ground, or die trying. I want to go anywhere but here, anywhere that doesn’t involve witnessing the deplorable state of these people.

Damien offers me a handkerchief. I refuse. I feel filthy. I just gave myself to this man, the same man who scoffs at the lives of these people. I fight the urge to act out of desperation.

I breathe and pull Damien aside to talk privately.

“Damien, why are these people here? Tell me you’re not going to kill them. Please, tell me you’re not going to kill them,” I beg.

The mafioso looks at me, unmoved by what I say. He holds my chin, a consoling gesture. It’s the impassive face of a man who negotiates lives, and the face of someone who would protect me with his own life. The two versions converge, and I can’t tell them apart. Maybe there is no difference, and I’m the one stubbornly trying to see something good in him.

“Of course they’ll survive. They’re voluntary donors. Naturally, some will have to pay a price for trying to run. Those fall into another category. You’re not ready for that part yet.”

I take a step back.

“You’re a monster. They’re people, Damien. Not organs. They’re living, terrified people!” I notice his siblings staring at me. “All of you are monsters. All of you.”

By now, only a few are left here. Most are taken away without much noise, crying and begging. A handful try to fight and are thrown to the ground without mercy.

“That’s enough, Leonor. You need to start getting used to your world. Come with me. Salo, bring me the special order.”

Damien guides me forward without giving me a chance to retreat.

His brother comes dragging a boy who looks about my age, maybe a little older. It’s hard to tell. His face is covered in bruises, most of them old. I don’t want to imagine what happened to him.

“He’s addicted to gambling. He bet both kidneys. Your friend Enzo was in on that bet with him. You saved your friend from donation, Leonor. Now someone has to pay.”

The image of Enzo, resigned to his loss, flashes through my mind. I push it away. He’s fine. Whatever the implied threat here is, my best friend will be fine.

“He can’t live without both kidneys. He’ll die. You just said these people would be okay.”

The boy starts trying to bargain, offering other kinds of services in exchange. Salo strikes him on the head and orders him taken back with the others.

“The choice is in your hands, Leonor. Want me to call your friend back? That’s the boy’s best chance of surviving. Is that what you want?” Damien says, his expressionless face studying me down to the smallest detail.

I want to throw up. I want to run and convince myself this is nothing but a nightmare.

“You saved Enzo. I know you have enough power to free these people, Damien. They’re people. This shouldn’t be happening.”

“They’re merchandise, Nor. They sold themselves to us. Time is passing. You need to choose. Should I call your friend?”

I don’t answer. The boy, no more than twenty, is dragged away. He looks at me as if I were his salvation, cries for mercy, begs for another chance to pay what he owes.

“I’m waiting for your answer,” Damien says.

He and his siblings make me the center of the conversation. Waiting for my decision, their faces impassive, drifting toward boredom. But I know they’re watching me closely.

“I choose to save Enzo,” my voice barely comes out.

The three of them exchange looks. I know they were expecting this reaction from me. I gave them exactly what they wanted.

“Good girl,” Damien says before kissing the top of my head and stepping away to talk to his sister and the other men.

Salo stays where he is. He lets out a resigned sigh and approaches me. He pulls a cigarette from his wallet, reconsiders after glancing at Damien, tucks it behind his ear, and gestures for me to come closer.

I stay exactly where I am. He’s the one who moves, leaning against something behind us.

“You get used to it. If you want to know, I bet on you. Chiara’s a few hundred poorer now.”

“You’re bragging about people in danger?” I ask.

“They’re fine. It could be worse. They’re here by choice, even if some decided it was a good idea to change their minds at the last second. You need a strong stomach, heiress. If it’s any comfort, they’ll save other lives and still survive, with follow-up care.”

I swallow hard. The idea was not having to deal with this. Pretending everything is fine, that everything will be fine.

“These people are scared,” I say.

“Who wouldn’t be? I would be if someone came at me with a knife. Scalpel, I think that’s what it’s called. But choices have to be made, heiress. You can’t save everyone. There will come a time when you’ll have to make hard choices to save your own ass.”

Damien finishes talking to his sister and starts heading back to get me. Salo points toward the exit. I move without feeling myself move, on autopilot.

“If you want some advice, stop confronting him. Every concession has a price. Take advantage of softening him up while the boss is away,” Salo says, then walks off.

Damien finds me halfway there and drags me outside. I keep moving on autopilot.

I think about his face turned toward me, but Enzo is my best friend. I couldn’t do that to him.

“Isn’t there another way?” I ask.

“There are always other willing donors. Just not today. You’ve learned your lesson. Come on. I’ll let you rest tonight, but I haven’t forgotten what you owe me.”

Other donors.

I’m guided along without paying attention to the path. I just signed someone’s sentence. The mafioso pulls me closer, his fingers drumming against my skin, completely satisfied after torturing me.