maeve rojas-one of us is dying

Nate

"What the hell!" Bronwyn yells, staring at her phone. I lay a hand on her arm, trying to calm her down. We're in the middle of a street and people turned to stop and start at her outburst, tutting and shaking their heads. I lead her down the side alley and ask, "what is it?"
"How is this," she hold up her phone " proof of fucking life!"
I zero in on her phone, rubbing her shoulder at the same time.
Wait. Hold up. I understand Bronwyn's reaction now.
It's a picture of Maeve, duct taped to o a chair and hooked up to what I'm assuming is some kind of sleeping drug, looking as still as death. Her eye is swollen and covered in shades of purple and black and there is dried blood running down her forehead from a large gash on her hairline.
"How dare they?" I seethe.
"We did everything they said, so what's he doing hurting her?"
I can't even begin with how angry I am, but even more than that, I can't express how bad I feel that Maeve is in this position to begin with. She doesn't deserve this. Nobody does.
"I don't know, but I'm about to find out." Bronwyn swipes to her contacts, finds the number, and dials the tone.
"Bronwyn are we sure this is a good-" I start, but I'm cut off as the call is accepted, and a distorted voice speaks.
"Hello?" They have the audacity to sound slightly amused, and my blood fells like its on fire with rage and sorrow.
"That photo. It's not proof of life. You put Maeve on the phone with me right now." Bronwyn is angry, I can tell, but more than that, I can hear her fear. Fear that they'll say that they can't put her on the phone with Maeve, because, because...
I can't even think it. I refocus my attention back to the conversation at hand, listening as they say, " alright Bronwyn, you'll get your way, but it'll cost you."
"Anything" Her voice cracks.
"Okay, let's just wake her up."
There's a breif fumbling, presumably with the IV,before they say,
"Now, it could take a while for the drugs to leave her system completely, so let's just speed it up a little."
Then, without warning, there's the sound of a heavy fist slamming repeatedly into skin. Bronwyn sobs and begs for him to stop, but he continues mercilessly for a few minutes until a cry issues from the phone, the walking sounds stopping. There's silence, a soft groan, and then,
"Bronwyn?" Unsurprisingly, Maeve sounds  bleary, with pain threading her words.
"Maeve!" Bronwyn's tears stop at once.
"Are you okay? Do you know where you are? What's going o-"
"B," Maeve interrupts, "I'm okay. I-"
Without warning, the line goes dead. A second later, a text pops through on Bronwyn's phone.
Satisfied?"
Bronwyn stares up at me and I pull her into my chest, hugging her close.
I hear a text ping in my own pocket, and before I even open it, I know who it's going to be from.