I feel the trickle of a liquid running down my face before it seeps into my mouth.
Blood.
That's what the liquid tastes like.
On my third attempt to open my eyes, they finally pity me and flutter open. I can't make out any figure in the room because it's so dark, and for a second, I'm confused as to how I got here. But everything comes flooding into my head.
As soon as Ivan drove off, I was worried. I couldn't stop pacing our bedroom. Then I went to sit at the window overlooking the compound gate, hoping he would drive back in immediately, saying everything had been settled. But I knew I was only being delusional.
Or was I? Because tell me why five minutes after Ivan had driven out, I got a text from a number saying ‘Lucia honey, It's Ivan. come outside for me. Hurry’
No one had dr
