25.

On the morning of the next day, I was informed that Klaus would be absent, leaving me in Elijah's "care."

Sitting at the kitchen table, she was scrolling through her phone when I entered the room.

"Now's a great opportunity," I say, unable to hide my anxiety.

"For what?" He asks without looking at me.

"What else would it be for? For me to escape!"

"No. It's not," she says calmly, making me blink several times in disbelief.

"What do you mean?! From what I understood, he's not coming back today. It's the perfect chance."

Exhaling sharply, he turns to face me.

"I already said it's not," he says impatiently. "I don't want him to suspect that I helped you escape."

I raise my eyebrows, understanding where he was going with this.

"You're afraid he'll kill you."

She smiles slowly.

"Klaus wouldn't kill me," I furrow my brow. "He would lose trust in me, and I don't want that."

Taking a deep breath, I look at the kitchen walls.

"How much longer do I have to stay here?"

He shrugs.

"For as long as necessary."

The fact was, Klaus held all the cards. He could keep me for as long as he wanted and protect me. For now, there was no escape.

So the days went on. Sometimes, I cried myself to sleep. I missed my family and friends. I missed going out to dance at a nightclub. I missed human contact. I wasn't naturally solitary; I was always in touch with people, whether on social media or hanging out with friends.

I enjoyed reading, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.

I tried talking to Elijah about it, even though I was sure she wouldn't listen.

"I'm bored," I say once during dinner. It was omelet again.

"Really?" She finds it amusing. "Why? Aren't the walls easy to befriend?"

I roll my eyes, poking at the tasteless omelet with my fork.

"They're good listeners, but they don't talk much."

"You could start cooking your own food."

I raise my gaze, finding her eyes fixed on me.

"I thought you were here for that."

"I'm not your servant."

"But Klaus left it as if you were," I retort. She forces a smile, gripping the knife tightly beside her.

"Speaking of him, when is he coming back?"

"I don't know," she whispers, returning to her meal.

"You should know. Or..." I tilt my head to the side, searching her eyes. "You don't want to tell me?"

"I don't owe you any explanations."

I shrug, pushing the mangled plate forward.

During the day, I would leave the house and spend most of my time on the covered balcony or watching the clouds pass by in the sky. I would return for meals, exchanging only a few words with Elijah.

Elijah was sure he wouldn't be gone for long, but as time went by, I started to think the worst had begun. I even began to think about my freedom.

I should feel depressed. I knew that. I should be bitter and furious all the time, hating Klaus and the whole place.

Sometimes, I did feel that way. But constantly being a victim took too much energy, and I was aware that it wasn't good for my baby.

When I lay in the hot sun, lost in thought about the clouds, I didn't hate anything. I just let my imagination carry me away, and it seemed to be all I needed to keep my sanity.

"Do you know when he's coming back?" I ask for the fifth time that week while Elijah once again cooks omelet.

"I don't know," she says without looking at me. "He'll come back when he's done with what he went to do."

"And what did he go to do?" I had asked that before, but I hoped that one day Elijah would answer me.

She sighs.

"Hailey, stop being nosy."

"Does it make a difference if I know?" I look at her with frustration. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to know if he really is a trafficker, nothing else. Don't you think it's normal to be curious in my situation?"

She sighs again, finishing mixing the eggs and flour in a bowl.

"Of course, it is. But Klaus will tell you himself if he wants you to know."

I take a deep breath. Obviously, I wouldn't get anywhere with that kind of question.

"You're really loyal to him, aren't you?"

"Yes," she says, greasing a frying pan. "I am."

I still hadn't figured out why she had such devotion to him. I was curious about that too, but I knew she didn't like to talk about it.

I felt like I was getting close to a difficult subject again but decided to continue anyway.

"Was it when he saved your life? Is that how you met him?"

She narrows her eyes.

"Hailey, what did I say about being nosy?"

"Okay, okay..." Her lack of response was enough for me. I changed the subject.

"Why did Klaus bring me specifically to this place? I mean, to this... slum. By the looks of it, he's not coming back."

"He'll be back soon." She looks at me with an ironic expression. "Why? Do you miss him?" Her tone wasn't joking.

"No, of course not!" I look at her offended.

She raises her eyebrows.

"No? Not even a little?"

"Why would I miss that monster?" I retort, with uncontrollable anger. "After what he did to me?" She doesn't respond. "I'm hoping he doesn't come back." I leave the kitchen, not waiting for her response.