*Charlie's P.O.V*

Igor shakes his head. "I can kill your sister too, you know." Then he swings his head back, humming to who knows what. My eyes flutter with every inkling to strangle him.

"It's your choice." His gaze shifts to mine nonchalantly.

Life passes. I can't cry, though my heart is bleeding.

I tie my hair not too tight. He smirks. Leaning in, I reminisce about myself, my name, who gave birth to me, and why she would undress and make someone quiver under her - it's her job. It's called acting. Mine has always been to protect my sister. I have to act.

Igor pushes me back and finds handcuffs. As he jerks my wrists, I wince. In a blink, he's squashing me on the couch. His total weight collapses on me once he's taken off my shirt. I can't breathe. I grip anything and everything because my head can't even move underneath his large palm. When he unbuckles his belt, I try gasping for air, but his gun's barrel invades my mouth.

"Suck it," he snarls.

I shut my eyes. But he doesn't shoot.

"I said suck it."

A metallic taste spikes my tongue.

He jeers, "Don't make your teeth scrape the barrel cuz if you do that with me, I'll blow your brains out. And it's your mom's blood, so stop making that face."

I stop making a face. Igor withdraws the barrel and reaches for my neck, but I bite his hand too hard.

"AAR-" He is cut off by my lips attacking his face so fast that we topple. The gun winds up right above our heads, though it's a struggle getting it while cuffed. It almost slips, but he doesn't see; my hair is all over him. Securing my lower body on top of his waist, I bite his ear lobe hard.

"You - AAAGH-"

I turn off the gun's safety, only for him to try wrenching it from me.

It fires straight for his arm. He grits his teeth.

I back away, struggling to retain my grip on the gun. My ears are deafened, and my head is buzzing. When he reaches forth with the words, "I'M GONNA KILL Y-" another bullet flies.

Now, his thigh is also punctured. He screams for guards, and then the door opens, and I don't care - I'm still pointing the gun at him while the guard - wait, why am I not dead yet?

"What are you waiting for?! Shoot him!"

"Sorry, sir." The guard instead says, then he lifts his walkie-talkie to his lips. "Yes, he shot someone, but I'll clean up. Don't bother. Return to your units."

"43," I exhale.

Igor rolls his eyes, causing 43 to rush to my side. He points his pistol at Igor just as I almost fall.

"You ok?"

"I'll be," I heave, leaning on the couch. When my ears and my head feel a little better, I spot Igor's phone.

"Call those who have my sister. Tell them to let her go."

Igor laughs. He laughs like this is a dumb joke, so I shove the barrel in his mouth.

43 gets the phone. Igor's eyes don't leave mine.

When he is done with the call, I tear up my shirt to stop his bleeding.

"Hey, don't do that," 43 contends. I ignore him. Shaking his head, 43 reveals a handkerchief and a bottle. After pouring its contents on the cloth, he presses it onto Igor's nose.

The man drifts in no more than four grunts. Standing over him, we catch our breaths.

"What are you thinking?" 43 turns to me.

I think I need a shower- I need to wash this man off me and go for my sister.

But I'm also pondering the laptop on his desk. I uncuff myself, and it turns on with his fingerprint.

Then, I scroll through the documents already open. One looks like a contract for a CEO. Another has names and a few numbers all over. I skim through until it dawns on me.

A moment of horror ensues in my head.

"43, your name is David."

"Huh?" He is at my side suddenly. I point it out. "You are first on the leaderboard here."

He beams.

I grimace. "That's not something to be happy about. He uses that to get into your head. So... Does that mean all the names with numbers attached were -"

"From the batches?" David shudders. I look closely and see my name, too, attached to '3421'.

I tell him to stay on Igor while rushing back to the desk.

"No, we gotta go!" David breaks my trance. I frown. He points to his walkie-talkie. I keep on looking.

David gapes. "Are you crazy? What are you searching for?!"

"These are just files regarding the 'promoted' kids. We need more."

"We can't save everyone. Let's just -AH -" David trips.

Instantly, I grab something and whack Igor's head, causing him to let go of David's ankle. David scurries backwards as I smack Igor repeatedly.

"Here is your taste. You like it? Huh?! I-I want m-my mommy. I want - bring her back! You monster, bring her back!"

Then I wipe my tears and sit to open the briefcase in my hands. It's his wife's own alright, with the papers too.

David gapes at Igor gurgling blood.

I furrow my brows at David, so he runs to the desk. He ransacks everywhere and dumps papers in the briefcase.
"There's no way you can get out with all this stuff," David laments.

"Igor," I turn to him. The man scoffs, licking his burst lips. Once we have gotten him to make another call to his guards, I wash off the blood on me and wear his suit. David escorts me out, muttering a thousand and one requirements to avoid getting caught.

"What about Igor?"

"I'll say Jawl's men broke in or something. Right now, focus. This hardly happens, so you still have to convince them Igor sent you. Be careful." David shuts the study door after giving me Igor's finger.

Alone, I turn around. Walk to the end of the corridor, where the elevator is. Inside, three buff bodyguards stare at me from their masks. I clear my throat and say Igor sent me in Russian. Fortunately, they don't inquire for more information; unfortunately, they follow me.

Stepping out with them, I realise there are so many more guards.

I turn to one, and he shoves me into a wall.

"How much does his pretty face cost again?"

"Cents," another laughs.

"Aww, model of the year; more like slut of the minute," The last guy taunts, touching my hair. I swat his hand, only for someone to punch my stomach. Then, they start spitting on me. I slip to the ground, shielding my head, when a voice booms.

"HEY!"

Feet go helter-skelter. I remain on the ground until the speaker pulls my hand down.

"Charlie?" Mrs. Joe appears. I blink, and she hugs me, gasping, "Oh my goodness, are you alright? Are you fine? Are you hurt? Hey, get up. Do you need anything?"

"I ... want my mommy back."

*

My stomach hurts, and I'm going in and out of consciousness, but Joe keeps telling me everything will be alright. She uses the staircase to the kitchen and the car park and then drives us out of there as though someone is chasing us.

Perhaps that's the case. Before I know it, we are on a plane with doctors already on me.

I think a day passes before my eyes open. All I see is white tiles and a bandage around my stomach. I settle back, hissing in pain.

When Joe reappears, her beam is radiant and motherly. "Hi."

I manage a thumbs up. She nods and takes a seat close to my bed. Crossing her legs, she says, "Thank goodness Leo asked me to look for you."

"Leo! Is he -"

"He's alright," she assures, "and your sister too."

"Please, can I see them?"

"Ur." She looks out the window. "We're not in the UK, but no worries, I'll reach them as soon as possible. Just rest for now, ok?"

I don't want to, though slumber steals me eventually. No nightmare comes. No memories. Just pitch darkness engulfs my senses. I roll on my other side and imagine Sydney patting my head.

She whispers something I can't quite catch. I almost ask her to repeat herself, but a pillow muffles my voice. Perhaps I'm having a nightmare after all.

My head twists away, only for the pillow to come down harder. It blocks my airways, so I scream and kick and - I'm tired of this.

I grab someone's wrist. Feeling a watch, it dawns on me that it's Joe's.

Oh ... She's ... Igor's sister?!

What a perfect time to reckon this.

Joe presses harder, and I let go. My head is pounding like a little tick away from death.

Suddenly, a piercing sound resonates, followed by Joe's -

"AAA, GET OFF ME-"

Light seeps into my void. I inhale as the pillow balances precariously on my face. She should finish. She should end this. Why has she stopped?

"Oh my goodness, Mia, tell her to calm down!"

"Autumn, that's enough."

To that, there's a thud. The first speaker mumbles something in what sounds like Portuguese, to which Mia grunts, "Is she dead?"

"Unfortunately, no," Autumn replies.

An exhale fills the air, and then the pillow suspends. I shut my eyes.

"Charlie."

"..."

"Charlie, look at me."

I do, gradually. Mia squints until relief washes over her face. She clasps her mouth. "OH -"

"Is he alright?" Autumn comes to view, frowning. Mia nods, though something strange flickers in her eyes. She turns back and kicks her aunt with all her might.

"Ok, ok, it's ok," says the other girl as she holds Mia back. The girl instructs Autumn to grab anything valuable, so I am left to stare at the ceiling.

The ceiling; can fall.

Soon, the girl walks out with the laptop bag and the briefcase, whereas Mia and Autumn try to lift me.

"Aw -"

"Hey," Mia squeaks, "Breathe in."

I try.

"Out ... Ok, ready?"

I'm not, but I lean on her side. Staggering, I try to hold everything in till we reach a ride. The girl drives with Autumn in the passenger seat. I succumb to darkness again, lying on Mia's lap as she sobs.

*

When my eyes flutter, no one is around. I'm in a room again, but different. The wall have pictures, and the scent of chicken is all over. I twist a little, and Mia gets up from the chair on my left.

"Don't move too much," she sighs. Her face is puffy and red, but as soon as I gulp, it looks grave.

"Charlie ... Are you hungry?"

I nod a little. She smiles, or at least tries to. In a jiffy, she feeds me while the other girls mumble between themselves.

"Mia?"

"Hm?" She turns to the girl - probably her friend, Cynthia.

"Anton says he's getting some guards around here, so can I go check -"

"Ya, you can go," Mia says, dismissive, "You too Autumn."

They leave. Mia calls in a doctor afterwards. The day goes by with me sleeping while she jots down prescriptions for me.

*

"Charlie?"

"Hmm."

"Charlie, you have to eat."

"Mm," I hum, turning in bed. I don't know what it is, but I am not done sleeping.

Mia pats my shoulder. "You need to eat to take your medication."

My head shakes.

"Your friends called. And Sil."

"Mia. Leave me alone, please."

"... Ok."

Feeling her absence from the bed, I groan. She doesn't return, but food is always on the table when I wake.

Eventually, I get out of bed and look for her. I end up on a balcony, where Mia sits in silence. I drag a chair to her side so she tilts. "Feeling better?"

"Yes."

"Can I see?"

To that, I lift my shirt. She nods, and my hand drops to hug my knees.

A moment passes before she says, "Do you hate me?"

"I'm just-"

Another pause. What should I even say? My head can only come up with; "No. You are not Igor or Joe. I trust you."

"Still?"

"Of course."

To that, she leans on her palm. "Well, Autumn asked me if she should kill Igor. If I said yes, he wouldn't have -"

Stopping there, she glances at me. My mind drifts to my mother, yet I rub Mia's hand sympathetically. She gets up, dropping mine. As she heads inside, I tail her.

"Mia?"

"..."

"Mia?!"

"..."

"Mia!"

"WHAT?!" She snaps. I wince, and she marches up to me.

"You -" She clenches her fist. Her breathing quickens when I take three steps back. "What do you want from me, Charlie?"

"I don't want you to blame yourself."

We lock eyes for what feels like forever. Then, she shakes her head and walks away, mumbling.

*

We don't talk the next day. I stay in the room till she enters, holding a phone. When I take it, Leo's yelp fills the silence.

"Oh my goodness, are you fine?!"

"Mhm."

"Charlie," he gasps. "Your sister is here."

"Let me talk to her."

" She's... Shaken up."

Oh God.

I sniff. "Tell her I love her and I'm sorry and'll be there soon. I promise."

He hums to that. "Ok. Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"They are not gonna get away this time."

"How do you know?"

"We'll make sure of it," he retorts. I bite my nail.

"Stop biting your nail," he says, "I'll see you soon, ok?"

On that note, I hand the phone back to Mia. She sets it beside Igor's laptop and huffs, "There's no password, yet I can't open it."

So I ransack the briefcase for his finger. Mia's jaw drops as I use it to boot the laptop calmly.

We spend hours going through all the information. When our horror gets unbearable, I return to my coiled position in bed. Mia wakes me up to suggest that we watch a movie. Reluctantly, I follow her to the living room.

"I, ur," she fumbles when slipping in a CD. Once the screen displays the film title, I gasp, "The Hopsons?!"

She nods. "Do you like it?"

"Of course!" I grab her hand so she sits quickly. I don't want her to miss any of my mother's scenes. In fact, the moment Sydney's face appears, I recite her line and explain, "See, here she is Mr. Hopson's youngest daughter, and those guys are fighting for her."

"Oh, a love triangle?"

"Ur, Mr. Hopson isn't going to allow - Oh, I'm spoiling it." I shut my mouth. Mia laughs, so I tilt her head to focus on the screen.

I manage to stay quiet until the saddest scene nears.

"Where are you going?" Mia frowns since I have gotten up. I point to the screen, and she gapes.

"Mhm." I blurt. "She's gonna die from the cancer."

"Dude." Mia flails arms. "I was thinking her love interest would leave her."

"That happens after -"

"Dude!" Mia facepalms.

Shifting to the far end of the couch, I whisper-yell, "Sorry!"

The film continues, so we watch in silence. When the credits roll, she stands only for me to grab her wrist.

"Oh- what is it, Charlie?"

"There's a guy called David. I don't know if he's alright because I left him with Igor, and coming to think of it, that was a terrible idea -"

"Huh?" she interrupts me. Her face screams, 'not again.'

"Please, I think I should go back or -"

"That's a dumb idea."

"Don't use that language," I scold. Her eyes glue to my thumb as she responds, "Ok, sorry. I'll ask Joe."

I sit up.

"She is -" Mia gulps. "Perhaps she can find the guy."

What? Why Joe? Where is she even?

Mia's gaze darts elsewhere before I can ask. I tug her hand, and she turns. "It's getting late. "

"Let's just talk about everything."

"I'm tired, dude."

"Mia -"

She stresses, "We can talk tomorrow."

But I don't release her hand. "What if there's no tomorrow?"

"Ok, stop acting weird," she chuckles.

My brows crease. "I'm not acting weird. You are."

That's when she grunts at space. I swing her hand. "Mia, what is going on? I feel very lost and - what did you do to your aunt? What are you up to -"

"That's not your concern," she intrudes. "Yours is to get better and wait."

"So, what, you are not going to talk?"

She huffs. "We've done that already."

"No, you left. You are angry at me?" I don't get her. "Or what? What is it?"

"Charlie, tomorrow. Please, let go of my hand."

I pout, but she glares at me. Letting go, I feel like there's too much and too little to ask of her again. I don't know what I'm thinking or doing right or wrong.

No one needs to tell me we won't talk the next day. She leaves without a word. I see security men walking around the house as if I'm some treasure to be kept secure.