by Willow Rose
Nancy stopped and looked at it more closely. Yes, there was definitely an edge there, like a crack in the wall going all the way to the ceiling. And there was one on the other side too. Nancy shrieked joyfully.
If there's a door, there's a way to open it too.
Frantically, Nancy let her fingers touch the stones on the wall, pressing them down first, then trying to pull them one after another. She had seen a wall like this before online in some video and remembered how they pressed one of the stones behind it to make it open. If only she could…if only she could…find it.
Nancy pressed and pulled each and every stone she could find and, as she reached up and pressed one a little above her head, something happened, something unexpected. There was a noise coming from inside the wall, like a clank, and then it started to move.
Nancy could hardly breathe as the door slowly slid open. She stared at it, barely able to wait for it to open properly. She could see the light coming from outside, the real light, sunlight. She was certain she could even smell the outside, the flowers and trees. She told herself that in a few seconds she would be running outside again, breathing in the fresh air, looking at the blue sky, feeling the sun on her face along with the moist Bahamian air. She couldn't wait to get off this island. As soon as she got away, she'd have to find her parents, and then they'd be going home.
Home, where Billy would be waiting for her.
Oh, Billy, I’m coming home now; I’m coming home!
But as the door opened fully and the light was revealed, something—or someone—else was too.
Nancy gasped and stepped backward. The person smiled, holding a big butcher's knife in their right hand while wearing a white apron.
"So, you found the door. I guess I should have known you would."
The person reached over and slammed a fist into her face, causing Nancy to stumble backward. The blow hit her nose so hard she heard it crack. As she lifted her head again and wiped off the blood, she saw the door slowly close and all her hope disappear with it.
"Please," she begged. "I just want to go home. Please. What do you want from me?"
The person grabbed her and forced her to the ground. Nancy then felt the cold tiles against her face and a knee in her back as she was held down. Nancy fought to get loose, but the person on top of her was heavy and strong and managed to hold her down. She couldn't see the big knife, but she knew it was there and it terrified her more than anything. What was the person's intentions with the knife? She was turned around, and they were now face to face. The person was holding the knife to her throat.
"I want your final word."
Not understanding anything, Nancy only whimpered while fighting to get loose, the blade of the knife cutting into the skin on her throat.
"Just one little word," the person said again, pressing her down. "Your final. What do you want the world to know about your final hour?"
Mostly whimpering sounds emerged from her throat, but eventually, she managed to press out something that sounded like a word, while she locked eyes with her perpetrator. The terror of seeing nothing but hatred in the eyes of the one about to kill her made her scream it.
The person then pressed a set of brutal fingers into her mouth. The fingers searched inside her for a few seconds, then grabbed her tongue and pulled it forcefully out between her lips before slicing the knife through it.
Chapter 26
Bahamas, October 2018
The figure watched the girl die. She squirmed on the floor, and the person made sure to keep her on her back. That way she would drown in her own blood. The person watched the blood gush out of the mouth and left the girl on the floor till she didn't move anymore, watching it all happen with great satisfaction. The person liked seeing them die and was fascinated about how different it was each time, yet how alike their bodies still acted.
But that wasn't the person's favorite part of it all. Seeing them die was one thing, and it was satisfying, yes, but the person was more in it for the chase. As soon as they were dead, the person already started thinking about finding a new one.
And it was like the demand became bigger and bigger each day.
As the girl slowly died on the floor of the person's secret room, thoughts of a new girl had already started to grow. But first, there was the matter of her final word.
The person left for a second, then came back with a bag and put it down. The person then pulled out a set of pens, needles, and ink before grabbing the girl and turning her around, undressing her, ripping her clothes off with gloved hands. The person searched the body for a perfect spot and soon found one.
Right on the lower part of the back where the skin was all soft and smooth.
Chapter 27
Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018
"I just don't understand why she would confess to having killed Ella Maria Chauncey if she didn't do it," I said.
Emily nodded. "That's been my issue as well."
"And why wouldn't she talk to us when we visited her?"
"Maybe she was terrified?" Emily said, snapping her fingers. "What if someone told her to confess or they would kill her or, even better, they would kill Sydney?"
I stared at my daughter, quite surprised. "Wow. That's actually not a bad theory. You're amazing me, Em."
She smiled. "I like this. This is fun." She paused. "Not that I find murder or anything about it fun; that's not what I meant…but...doing this. With you."
I reached over and put my hand on her shoulder, feeling all kinds of mushy. It was a strange thing to be bonding over, but we were doing just that, and it made me so happy.
"I know exactly what you meant. It is not something you can easily explain to people, but I find great satisfaction in doing detective work. Why else would I be one?"
She nodded pensively. "True."
"So, what do you suggest we do next?" I asked.
She looked at the screen, then back at me. "I think we should pay that Henry dude a visit."
I chuckled. "Okay. That sounds like a very good way to go. Question that Henry dude. Let's do that…tomorrow. Now, I say we go down to the restaurant and get something to eat."
I stood up, but as I looked at Emily, I suddenly realized the excited look in her eyes was gone, and she was back to being that apathetic old self.
"Emily?"
She shook her head, and her eyes avoided mine. "I'll…I'll stay here."
"No, you won't. You're coming with me to the restaurant, and you'll eat. We had a deal, remember? I help Sofia, and you eat."
She shrugged. "Yeah, well, maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all."
"What are you talking about? You were just telling me how you enjoyed this? And we might end up helping one of your relatives get out of pure hell; how is that not a good idea?"
She sighed and grabbed her headphones but didn't put them on yet.
"Em, don't put those headphones on; I swear, Em, I…you promised me you'd eat, dang it."
Emily looked down at her stomach. "Yeah, well…I…don't want to."
"You don't want to…what the heck, Emily? What's going on? Where is that sweet girl I was just bonding with a few seconds ago?"
Emily answered with a shrug. I saw her glance briefly at her suitcase and walked to open the lid before she could stop me. Just as suspected, I found her scale inside of it. I grabbed it and held it out toward her.
"You brought a scale? On vacation?"
Emily looked at it, then swallowed.
"Why? Why would you bring a scale? Is that why you won't eat? Because you think you gained weight?"
"I have to keep track, okay? I can't just let go and not care like you can. I have to keep track…"
I turned around and pulled out a notebook from her suitcase as well. I flipped the pages, then felt like crying.
"You've been making graphs? This is hours…how many times do you weigh yourself during the day?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do know. It's all
in here. Today you weighed yourself…every hour? Every freakin' hour, Emily? Why?"
She was about to cry, I could tell, but then she forced it away. "You wouldn't understand."
"Then explain it to me. Please, just tell me why you need to do this."
Emily looked down, then lifted the headphones.
"Don't you dare put that on, Emily; don't you dare!"
But she did. She put them on, then turned on the video and completely blocked me out. I stomped my feet angrily, grabbed the car keys and my phone, and left. I slammed the door and ran down the hall, fighting to hold back my screams.
Chapter 28
Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018
I did scream. In the car. I yelled my anger out, screaming at Emily and screaming all my frustrations out while slamming my hand into the steering wheel.
The anger was soon replaced by tears. I drove away from the hotel and down by the harbor where another big cruise ship had taken over from the one that had brought Nancy Elkington and her family to the island. I wondered how many hours we had left before the story was all over the media back home. I knew the police feared that more than anything, and I was afraid they'd make some hasty arrest just to let the Americans know they had things under control. If they did, they would also close the case, and we would never find who had taken Nancy. We would never find Nancy.
I drove past the cruise ship terminals, then went up through downtown Nassau. I drove past the American Embassy then back down past Straw Market while wondering about Nancy. Where could she be? Seeing how many people walked in and out, I wondered if no one really had seen her being carried out.
Her parents had put up posters in some places, asking the public if they had seen this girl?
My heart sank when thinking of them. Where were they now? Still searching the streets, asking each and every person they met if they had seen their daughter, or were they sitting in their hotel room holding each other tight, worrying how to get through the night?
The thought made me accelerate past the market and continue through town, tears streaming across my cheeks. Not only for Nancy but also for Emily. Somewhere out there, Nancy was crying for someone to help her, whereas back here was Emily not wanting my help.
"I give up," I said to myself, then grabbed my phone and called Shannon.
"Hi, babe," she said.
I drove on, exhaling deeply to the sound of her voice.
"Jack? What's wrong?"
"I…I think it was a bad idea, coming here. We should never have left."
"Calm down, Jack. Tell me what's going on."
"We had the best talk, the best hour or so where we talked about the case," I said.
"The one involving Emily's relative?" she asked. "The one you told me about last night?"
"Yes. We’ve been working on it all day…well, something else came up for me as well, but we were talking about it, bonding so well and she was…she was almost herself, Shannon. She was just like my sweet old Emily again. We laughed and shared ideas and enjoyed each other…"
"That's great," she said. "Isn't it?"
"It was. It was more than that. It was wonderful. It made me feel so good, like I had finally had a breakthrough, but then…then I asked her if we should go eat."
"And she said no?"
"Not only that, I found a scale. In her suitcase. Along with a notebook. You should have seen it, Shannon. It was full of graphs and notes on what she ate, even if she drank a glass of water she would weigh herself. She monitored herself every hour. Every freakin' hour."
Shannon sighed. "It's getting worse."
"I…I don't know what to do. I was afraid I would say something that would hurt her, so I just left. I’m out driving now. Leaving Nassau town as we speak. I don't want to go back to her. I am so angry, Shannon, what am I to do?"
"First of all, you don't get to give up, you hear me? It is not a possibility. She's your kid. You never gave up on me, even when I had a setback a few months ago. Not when I was drinking, not when I was high on pills, you never gave up. You can't give up on her either. Second, I would say you celebrate what happened today. You did have a breakthrough, even if it was one step forward and two steps back. That's how this type of thing works, Jack. It was the same with me, remember? You and Emily experienced something together today; you bonded, and you found the old Emily. That means she is still there, Jack. And you can find her again. If you don't give up."
I sighed deeply, knowing she was right.
"Thank you," I said. "I needed to hear that."
"Glad to be able to help, honey. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get Tyler. He just climbed out of bed, again. I swear he is trying to drive me nuts. I can hear his feet running around up there. Does he really think I won't hear him when he's bumping around like that? He'll never make a very good criminal."
I chuckled. "You better go get him then, before he gets himself into trouble."
"Oh, he is already in trouble," Shannon said. "Big time. Can you believe it? He stole Abigail's phone earlier today and threw it in the toilet. Good thing those phones are waterproof now, huh? But, needless to say, he's not very popular with his big sister right now."
I laughed, suddenly missing them all so terribly. I remembered Emily when she was that age and was filled with a ton of warm memories. She had always been so well-behaved, though. Never got herself into any trouble, not even when in school. She had been the sweetest little thing with her unruly curls and deep brown eyes. Gosh, I loved her.
Why did they have to grow up?
"Don't be too hard on him," I said. "He's the last one. They get extra slack, remember? That's part of the package."
"We'll see about that," Shannon said with a light laugh, then hung up. As she did, I looked at the phone while I put it down for one unforgiving second. When I looked up, I saw a young boy standing in the road, caught like a deer in my headlights.
I hit the brakes as hard as I could and turned the wheel at the same time. The car skidded sideways and slowed down, but I still hit him. The sound of my car bumping into his small body was the worst sound in the world.
Chapter 29
Bahamas, July 1983
She was brought back. Less than two days after she had run away from them at the playground, Gabrielle was back at the house. The girl was lying on the mattress in her room where she had been put after the beating. She could barely move still, but as she heard the screams and yelling outside her door, she lifted her head and looked up. Seconds later, Carla unlocked the door to her room and came rushing inside.
"You have to come. They're gathering all of us in the kitchen. They need you there."
The girl lifted her gaze and looked up at Carla, who too bore visible signs of the beating she had received. The skin on her arms was swollen and frayed. The girl guessed her back looked very similar. It was very painful; that was for sure.
"I…I can't," the girl said.
"You have to," Carla said. "You know you do, come."
Carla went to her and tried to help her get up, but the girl whined in pain.
"You must," Carla said. "I don't know what she'll do to you if you're not there. Please, come."
Carla pulled her arm over her shoulder and lifted the girl up, then carried her out of the room, her face torn in deep pain as her hurting arms carried the girl into the kitchen. The girl looked at Carla's face and knew at that moment that she was forever in debt to her.
As she put her down on the floor, The White Lady fluttered inside, her dress flying in the wind behind her. She looked at each and every one of them, her nostrils flaring. Gabrielle was standing in the middle, shaking. The White Lady's son, Dylan was standing behind his mother as she faced Gabrielle.
"Have I not taken you in when you needed it the most, huh? You wanna run? You wanna get away from this place? Is that the way you show gratefulness for everything I have done for you? You're illegal, my dear. You're in this country illegally. No one cares what happens to you. If you're arre
sted, you'll be thrown in jail. Do you know what jail is like in this place? Well, it's a lot worse than here, I can tell you that much. And once they put you in there, they'll forget about you. You'll rot in that hellhole. I saved you from that fate when I picked you up at the harbor. I took care of you. I have given you a roof over your head; I make sure you eat, that you have a bed to sleep in. And this is how you repay me? You want to have freedom? You have no rights. People who come here illegally have no rights at all. If you don't behave, if you don't obey me, then I see no other solution than to call for an immigration officer. And do you know what he will do to you? You'll be lucky if he only throws you in jail and loses the key. He might as well kill you and bury you outside of town in a field with all the other illegal aliens. I am really saving you here. I am helping you out."
The White Lady snorted and looked at all of them.
"That goes for all of you in here. There is nowhere you can run. This is your home now."
Gabrielle started to cry, holding a hand to her face. The White Lady gave her a disgusted look.
"Get down on your knees," she said.
Gabrielle answered with another sob.
"Get down on your knees, I said," The White Lady repeated. "I want you to beg for forgiveness."
Gabrielle sobbed again, then looked up at the woman in front of her.
"On your knees!"
The White Lady clenched her fist. Sobbing deeply, Gabrielle fell to her knees.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I am so sorry!"
The White Lady snorted and looked down at the weeping Gabrielle. It wasn't until now that the girl noticed Gabrielle had bruises all over and that her nose was bleeding.
The White Lady looked at two of the women standing behind Gabrielle, their heads bent.
"Take her to the shed," she said.
"NO!" Gabrielle wailed and threw herself on the tiles. "Please, no!"
