Sophia said.
‘I am least of their concerns. And I have spent enough time being scared.’
Sophia lowered her mug. ‘Me too.’
***
Sophia had decided she’d play along with Leoncjusz’s deprogramming, at least until she had her first opportunity to escape. She couldn’t trust anyone; she was better off by herself.
He had forbidden her from venturing outside. He said it wasn’t that she couldn’t take care of herself; he knew she most certainly could. But her existence had to remain a secret. For all Denton knew, she was dead. And that was exactly how Leoncjusz wanted it.
It was almost five weeks before he trusted her enough to leave her by herself in the library. He needed to restock their supplies from the local market, and said he wouldn’t be gone for more than an hour.
Sophia waited fifteen minutes before approaching the grand oak door. Did he really think she’d just wait around for him to return? She gripped the door handle and found herself unable to turn it. She’d built up her strength and stamina over the last few weeks, despite the library’s confined spaces. Her body was definitely up to the task. The door wasn’t locked. The handle wasn’t jammed. That wasn’t the problem. The problem, she realized, was her mind.
The cunning bastard.
She tried again. Her hand refused to turn the handle. It was impossible for her to leave.
She yelled, kicked the door. Smashed a chair into it. She tried again. Still, she couldn’t. Somehow, he’d switched something on inside her mind that kept her here. He didn’t need to tie her up with anything. She was holding herself prisoner.
Pulling her hand away in disgust, she listened to the silence around her. She felt pathetic. He’d stripped her of everything. There was nothing left. No purpose, no friends, no family, no certainty, no life. She had nothing left to believe in. There was Adamicz, of course, but that was it. Really, there was no one here for her but herself.
She collapsed on a dusty tribal rug, her gaze glued to the oak door. She let it taunt her for a while. She felt like she was falling endlessly. Adamicz had peeled away at her like the rind of an orange and the only thing left inside her was a lie.
She allowed herself to stretch out on the rug. Spreading her hands out at her sides, she looked up, watched dust particles float lazily above her. Tears escaped, ran down her temples. She ignored them and closed her eyes. She couldn’t feel anything. All this time she thought she was being virtuous. Now it was just a gaping black hole of nothing. And she had been feeding it all this time.
But there was something. Like a single particle of dust. Tiny and almost non-existent. It might very well have been her imagination, but whatever it was, it caught her attention. It wasn’t dark and it wasn’t feeding and it wasn’t a lie like everything else. Before she knew it, she was riveted to it. She didn’t know what it was, but the more attention she gave it, the more it grew.
She sat up and touched her right eyebrow, where her stitches had been. Opening her eyes, she realized what she had found. Her will.
She marched into Adamicz’s office and began with his desk. It was covered in mountains of papers and books. She rifled through them, one stack at a time, tossing them aside when she was done. Whatever was lying on top would be cover documents, of course, placed there on purpose, possibly to influence her. She glanced over them for only a moment before casting them aside.
Once she was through the layers of distraction, she began searching his desk drawers, his bookcases. She found a stash of euro banknotes in one of the drawers, twenties and fifties. There had to be at least a thousand euros in there. She ignored the money, and checked for hidden papers and books. Anything he was concealing from her.
She only found one book. She opened it at the bookmark just shy from its center, revealing half a page of handwritten text, black ink with a
‘I am least of their concerns. And I have spent enough time being scared.’
Sophia lowered her mug. ‘Me too.’
***
Sophia had decided she’d play along with Leoncjusz’s deprogramming, at least until she had her first opportunity to escape. She couldn’t trust anyone; she was better off by herself.
He had forbidden her from venturing outside. He said it wasn’t that she couldn’t take care of herself; he knew she most certainly could. But her existence had to remain a secret. For all Denton knew, she was dead. And that was exactly how Leoncjusz wanted it.
It was almost five weeks before he trusted her enough to leave her by herself in the library. He needed to restock their supplies from the local market, and said he wouldn’t be gone for more than an hour.
Sophia waited fifteen minutes before approaching the grand oak door. Did he really think she’d just wait around for him to return? She gripped the door handle and found herself unable to turn it. She’d built up her strength and stamina over the last few weeks, despite the library’s confined spaces. Her body was definitely up to the task. The door wasn’t locked. The handle wasn’t jammed. That wasn’t the problem. The problem, she realized, was her mind.
The cunning bastard.
She tried again. Her hand refused to turn the handle. It was impossible for her to leave.
She yelled, kicked the door. Smashed a chair into it. She tried again. Still, she couldn’t. Somehow, he’d switched something on inside her mind that kept her here. He didn’t need to tie her up with anything. She was holding herself prisoner.
Pulling her hand away in disgust, she listened to the silence around her. She felt pathetic. He’d stripped her of everything. There was nothing left. No purpose, no friends, no family, no certainty, no life. She had nothing left to believe in. There was Adamicz, of course, but that was it. Really, there was no one here for her but herself.
She collapsed on a dusty tribal rug, her gaze glued to the oak door. She let it taunt her for a while. She felt like she was falling endlessly. Adamicz had peeled away at her like the rind of an orange and the only thing left inside her was a lie.
She allowed herself to stretch out on the rug. Spreading her hands out at her sides, she looked up, watched dust particles float lazily above her. Tears escaped, ran down her temples. She ignored them and closed her eyes. She couldn’t feel anything. All this time she thought she was being virtuous. Now it was just a gaping black hole of nothing. And she had been feeding it all this time.
But there was something. Like a single particle of dust. Tiny and almost non-existent. It might very well have been her imagination, but whatever it was, it caught her attention. It wasn’t dark and it wasn’t feeding and it wasn’t a lie like everything else. Before she knew it, she was riveted to it. She didn’t know what it was, but the more attention she gave it, the more it grew.
She sat up and touched her right eyebrow, where her stitches had been. Opening her eyes, she realized what she had found. Her will.
She marched into Adamicz’s office and began with his desk. It was covered in mountains of papers and books. She rifled through them, one stack at a time, tossing them aside when she was done. Whatever was lying on top would be cover documents, of course, placed there on purpose, possibly to influence her. She glanced over them for only a moment before casting them aside.
Once she was through the layers of distraction, she began searching his desk drawers, his bookcases. She found a stash of euro banknotes in one of the drawers, twenties and fifties. There had to be at least a thousand euros in there. She ignored the money, and checked for hidden papers and books. Anything he was concealing from her.
She only found one book. She opened it at the bookmark just shy from its center, revealing half a page of handwritten text, black ink with a
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