Chapter 3 - The mistake Derek didn’t notice
I forced myself to stop looking at the keys.
That was the hardest part.
Survival depends on pretending the thing you need does not exist.
Derek pointed two fingers toward my face.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“You understand now?”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
He smiled.
There it was.
His favorite version of me.
Defeated.
Apologetic.
Small.
“I’m sorry.”
The words tasted poisonous.
“For what?”
“For making you angry.”
He relaxed.
Men like Derek don’t just want obedience.
They want you to confirm their story.
That everything is your fault.
He turned toward Wade.
“Get the truck ready.”
The worker looked at him.
“We said no complications.”
Derek’s expression changed.
“You getting nervous?”
“I said she wasn’t supposed to get hurt.”
I memorized that.
Wade knew.
But perhaps not everything.
Interesting.
Derek walked toward him.
I moved slowly.
One hand behind the tank wall.
Fingers searching.
Metal.
Cold.
Keys.
I closed my fist around them.
Then slipped them into the torn sleeve of my beige work shirt.
My heart was beating so hard I thought both men would hear it.
Derek returned.
“Time to go.”
He grabbed my arm.
I let him pull me upward.
My legs shook when my feet reached the platform.
Real weakness.
Useful weakness.
He assumed I couldn’t run.
Then he looked away for one second.
I twisted free.
Slipped through the metal gate.
Slammed it.
The key fit on the second attempt.
Click.
Derek hit the barrier so violently it rattled.
“RACHEL!”
I stumbled backward.
Wade froze.
“Unlock this!”
I didn’t.
I ran.
Not quickly.
I couldn’t.
My wet clothes clung to me.
My knees nearly gave out twice.
I reached the emergency corridor.
An illuminated exit sign hung above a steel door.
Freedom.
Three steps away.
Then I saw a phone on a workbench.
Derek’s.
Unlocked.
The screen showed multiple live security feeds.
Factory entrance.
Tank room.
Hallway.
And another room.
Windowless.
Locked.
Inside, a woman was pounding against the door.
Brown hair.
Bare feet.
Terrified.
I stopped breathing.
Derek roared behind me:
“DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR!”
The woman on the screen looked directly toward the camera.
Then lifted something in her hand.
May you like
A photograph.
Of me.
