Chapter 3

David didn't believe I was weak. He thought the experiments made me invincible, that my pain was a performance. Two bodyguards grabbed my arms and dragged me away. My feet scraped against the stone floor.

They threw me into a small, dark room. It was cold and smelled of dust. A large screen on one wall flickered to life.

It was a video of the surgery.

My baby. Anna.

I saw the scalpel. I saw David' s hands. I saw the small chest opened up. I saw the heart, my son's heart, being taken out while it was still beating.

I screamed. It was a raw, animal sound torn from my throat. I pounded on the locked door, my fists bloodying against the wood. "Let me out! Please, let me out!"

No one answered.

I kept screaming and pounding until I felt a sharp, tearing pain in my abdomen. My C-section wound had opened. Blood started to soak through my thin dress. The pain was so intense I slid down the door and onto the floor, but I couldn't stop watching the screen. I was forced to witness my son's murder again and again.

Ten hours passed. An eternity of darkness and horror.

Finally, the door opened. The grim-faced housekeeper stood there, looking at me on the floor with contempt. She threw a small, decorative box at my feet.

"Deliver this to Mrs. Miller," she ordered.

I used the wall to pull myself up. Every movement was agony. My legs shook. I dragged myself up the grand staircase, leaving a faint trail of blood behind me. I went to Sarah's bedroom. The door was slightly open. I placed the box on her nightstand without looking inside. I couldn't bear to know what it was.

Then I collapsed onto the floor in the hallway, right outside her door. I curled up, clutching my bleeding stomach, and wept without a sound.

My fingers found the bracelet on my ankle again. I pressed the button.

A small red light on the device flashed three times.

The signal was confirmed. The organization would come for me.

In three days. I just had to survive for three more days.