You call this fate?

Chapter 36

When I came to this time, it was to the feel of a cool hand on my face. I lifted my head up just enough to figure out that I was still where I had been before the temporary escape of darkness. I let my head drop back down, screwing my eyes shut. My wrists were throbbing, but they were still tied back in the same position. I could feel dried blood cracking in the basin of my palms.

"Get up," a little voice insisted, tapping my cheek.

I shook the hand off, whoever's it was. I didn't want to wake. I wanted to get back to oblivion again, the only safe place. I was so tired. My shoulders hurt, and so did my head. My wrists hurt, and I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. I was scared to try to move them only to realise that I couldn't.

As it turned out, whoever it was trying to wake me, he was really tenacious. He slapped me lightly. "Get up!"

I finally opened my eyes once more and lifted my head. The room swam into view. Along with a little face. The face of a little girl.

My eyes widened so much it hurt. For a moment I couldn't say anything. All I could think was that she was Ella and Ella was here where Frank was and I was going to die. But after some time, when it became clear that her face was, in fact, not going to morph into that of my four-year old daughter, I felt relief flood through me.

But this relief didn't only wash the panic away. It brought something else with it. Something else equally powerful if not so mind boggling. Concern.

The little girl was looking at me with huge brown eyes in a narrow, pinched face. There were dirt streaks on her cheeks and her dark hair lay in a clump down her back, so long they almost reached the small of her back. She wore a dirty, white shirt that was two sizes too small, and worn out jeans.

"Who are you?" I asked softly. My voice croaked from all the screaming done god-knows how long ago, but I was pretty sure she heard.

She didn't answer. "Wake up," was all she said and then started to get up.

"No, no, wait!" I gasped. This little feat sent me into spasms of coughs so hard I was worried I would cough up a lung. But they eventually subsided, and when I looked again, the girl was still here. "Wh-why," I asked, clearing my throat. It hurt. Everything hurt. "Why are you waking me up?"

The little girl's eyes shone with unshed tears. "He's here," she said simply.

And I knew. I knew who she was talking about without even asking. For a beat I just stared at her little dirty face, the words coming out of her mouth in slow motion, almost as if I could shove them back inside and slam her lips shut. But I couldn't. And the words fell.

He's here.

Mr. Rodwell's here.

I am not going to lie. I did feel relief. I felt so much relief that I almost sagged against my bonds. I wanted to see him. I wanted to hear his reassuring voice. I wanted him to come near me and whisper in my ear that everything was going to be alright. That he would keep me safe, like he had said earlier. But I also felt fear. And panic. Not for myself, of course. For him. Frank wanted Mr. Rodwell, for whatever reason. And now he had him. Because of me.

My heart hurt. What had I done?

"Where is he?" I asked softly.

The girl's eyes were huge with fear. I knew she was breaking rules. If she was here, then she knew she wasn't supposed to talk to me. And I shouldn't have been talking to her either. Hadn't I just seen him blow a man's brains out for just that? Would I put a little girl in the man's boots next? Would this little doll be next after McKenzie because of me?