I sat frozen on my bed after hearing Rose's story. Rose had been brought in a week after Rachael and had been here for about two months. She excused herself after telling me her story, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Poor girl.

She didn't deserve to be kidnapped on her way from the hospital. She didn't deserve to be taken from her mother, who is ill with stage three lung cancer. She deserved to be by her mother's side, comforting her and showing her love. Subtle teardrops fell from Rose's eyes when she spoke of her mum's deteriorating condition. At multiple points, she stopped talking to take deep breaths. She worried so much about her mum and her present condition.

According to Rose, Damian brings newspapers every two weeks. She didn't understand what kind of sick game he was playing with them, because he always chuckled when he saw their sad expressions. She said she had seen the papers about three times since she got here, and each time, she saw her picture. She believed her uncle was likely leading the search. He is her mum's only brother and has always been there for them since her dad died.

Rose had only seen her mum once in the papers, during a public appeal to the kidnapper to release her or at least her body. It was an old picture of them together, but luckily, Rose had the chance to tear it out before Damian returned to retrieve the papers. She kept the picture under her pillow. However, Rose said she had only ever seen Rachael appear once in the papers.

Did that mean they had stopped looking? Was that why Rachael had also lost hope?

Rose mentioned that Rachael didn't share much about her life before all this; she only spoke of the kidnap. Maybe if we become closer, I'll encourage her to open up to me. My thoughts went back to my family. Where would they start looking for me? I didn't even know where I was or how I got here. Would my family give up after searching for so long?

Once again, I placed my head between my palms. Tears threatened to fall, but I held them back. No! I won't cry. I am strong and a survivor, just like Elvis always says. I will survive this, and I will see them again.

***

Dominic's POV:

I stood in front of the restroom mirror at the company where I worked. Taking deep breaths, I slowly opened my eyes and stared at my reflection. I couldn't make out the emotions I was feeling. A lot of things were swirling inside me: happiness, sadness, uncertainty, and more.

Yesterday, Damian smiled and seemed...happy. An emotion I hadn't seen him show for the past 15 years. Yesterday, he told me he was proud of me and that Mum was too. When we went to get Rhea, I was devoid of emotions. It wasn't me yesterday; it was Dom. He was the one who held Rhea down. He is always heartless and void of emotions. He does what needs to be done; he isn't a wimp like Caleb, Don, or me.

Dom is the stoic and fierce one. He is dominant and the strongest of us all. He hates opposition and does what Mother wants. He doesn't question her or her judgments, unlike Caleb.

Caleb always ends up beaten and bruised. He tries to see the positive side of things and wonders why we do the things we do. Sometimes, he has the guts to question Damian, and most times, I try to caution him. He is always so stubborn and resistive.

Don is the childlike me. He longs for acceptance, love, and assurance. Sometimes, when Don takes over, I feel like a child again; innocent and pure. Don loves playing with his toy cars and enjoys his own company.

Then there's me, plain old Dominic. I am the accountant. The trustworthy, loyal, and hardworking guy. The one most companies would die to hire and place as their head financial manager.

To be honest, I silently long to be only Dom. He is cold, calculative, and obedient. He is the one that Damian and she approve of the most. He is the one that Damian is proud of. I would do anything to make her happy, but alas, giving Dom total control might ruin my job and relationships. All Dom wants is blood, vengeance, and control. He gets what he wants, no matter who stands in his way.

Every night, I toss and turn in my bed, hardly getting any sleep. All I think about is him and what he did to us. How he made her cry, how he ruined our perfect family. Our family was perfect; why did he have to ruin everything?

I still hear his voice in my sleep, especially his raspy voice taunting me. "Get up, little man! If you want something, you have to fight for it. Weakness will get you nowhere," his voice taunted me. I had thought that when we heard the news, the nightmares would stop, but I was wrong. They haunted me, even now, at work.

I still remember the day everything went to shit.

***

I sat on the floor of our vast living room, the chandelier above illuminating the space. "Destructor is here to ravage your city. Fear my wrath!" I soliloquized, bashing my little figurine against the city I had constructed with plastic bricks. "Argh, argh," I continued with the sound effects. I was so engrossed in my toys that I didn't notice someone walking up behind me. The person placed a hand on my shoulder, and I stiffened. If it was Mum, she would be so mad about my toys scattered around the living room.

I slowly looked over my shoulder and saw it was just Miss Betty. She was one of the many caretakers, but somehow, she became my favourite. Damian and I were homeschooled, so her job was to always make sure we were ready before our tutor came. She also made sure we brushed our teeth and got ready for bed every evening.

"Master Dominic, it's almost time to retire to your room. Aren't you going to get ready? And by the way, you know how your mum gets upset when your things are littered everywhere," she said with her hands clasped together. She wore her usual uniform: a knee-length black gown with a white collar, a white apron around her waist, and black heels. Her caramel brown hair was done in a tight bun, as always.

She smiled at me with her thin, glossed lips, and I returned it. "I'm sorry, Miss Betty. I didn't mean to make a mess. I'm just waiting for Daddy to return," I said with sad puppy eyes, hoping she would let me play a bit longer.

She shook her head and pointed upstairs. "Master Damian is already in your room, and I insist you go upstairs. I will let you play a little longer tomorrow."

I knew she wouldn't let me play a little longer tomorrow because she always made the same empty promise every evening. Not in the mood to fuss, I stood up and gathered my toys. She assisted me, then followed me upstairs.

We passed by Mum and Dad's room and several other empty rooms in our mansion before finally stopping at Damian and my room at the end of the hall. I walked into our colossal room and went over to my chest where I kept all my figurines. Miss Betty also placed the ones in her hands inside the chest and led me to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Afterwards, I crept to the king-sized bed, which Damian and I shared.

Damian was sprawled lazily on the bed, deeply asleep. He has always been a deep sleeper. I, on the other hand, have always been a light sleeper. Miss Betty tucked me in and kissed my forehead before making her way to the door, her heels clacking softly against the marble floor as she went. She turned off the light, leaving me in darkness.

I tried counting sheep to force myself to sleep, and the last number I remembered before drifting off was 120. I dreamed about one of the vacations to Fiji that Mum and Dad had taken us on, when I heard loud noises down the hall. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I really hate that I'm a light sleeper.

I laid down again, trying my best to block out the noises from down the hall, but sleep vanished with every toss and turn. I looked over at Damian, who was still soundly asleep like a log. Deciding to investigate the noise since I couldn't sleep anyway, I left the room and stood in the long, dark hallway. Normally, I would be scared, but curiosity got the better of me. I didn't bother to tiptoe because my fluffy slippers muffled my steps. As I got closer to Mum and Dad's room, where the noise seemed to come from, I slowed down. Their door was slightly ajar, and I peeped in.

The light in their room was on, and Dad sat on the bed, clearly dishevelled. Mum paced around the room with one hand on her hip and the other on her head. She shook her head as she paced, and Dad had his head in his hands, muttering under his breath.

"How could this happen? How did this happen?" Mum said shakily as she continued to pace.

"I'm sorry, Ramona. I just thought it was the best thing to do. I didn't know it would end like this," Dad sobbed.

My breath hitched in my throat. What could have happened? I had never heard Dad sob before. I strained my ears to listen as they started speaking in hushed tones.

"All what my dad worked for. Down the bloody drain!" Mum sighed loudly.

What does she mean? What have we lost?

Mum suddenly stopped and looked at Dad as she sat, shaking her head. She put her hand over her mouth, and I wouldn't have heard her next sentences if she hadn't suddenly stopped sobbing. "What am I going to tell the board? They're definitely going to force us to sell our shares. Where are we going to start? Everything I've ever known is going to get ripped away from me!"

Mum slowly got down on her knees and went into another bout of sobs. Dad got up from the bed and sat on the floor beside her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, but she paid no heed. "I just wanted you to be proud of me. I'm sorry, Ramona. I shouldn't have done it," Dad continued to explain. My heart ached in my chest seeing Mum and Dad like that. I touched my face and my fingers came away wet. I hadn't realised I was crying. With my head bowed and the throbbing pain in my chest, I slowly made my way to my room.

Damian was still asleep, so I just dragged myself over to the bed. I looked over at Damian and wondered if I should wake him up and tell him what I saw. Opting against it, I lay down to face the huge window. I stared at the moon shining brightly through the window until the thunderstorm started. I couldn't help but think about what I saw and if this storm signified the start of a new chapter for my seemingly perfect and happy family. I kept thinking until the heavy sounds of rain against our mansion drowned my thoughts, and my heavy eyelids shut with sleep.

***

I adjusted my tie and cleared my throat. I looked once more in the mirror, and I almost couldn't recognise who I was staring at. Anger and darkness clouded my vision, and I instantly knew it wasn't Dominic I was staring at, but Dom. I closed my eyes and took in long, deep breaths.

"Dom be gone, Dom be gone, Dom be gone," I repeated to myself and slowly opened my eyes.

There is the face I recognise.

Taking one last breath, I prepared to step outside the restroom and into the life of plain old Dominic. Dominic the accountant.