Once Gone

“Mom, we gotta eat now or I’ll be late.”

She felt an urge to yell back, “Fix your own breakfast!”

But she didn’t. She was long since exhausted from her battles with April. She’d given up fighting.

She got up from the table and walked back to the kitchen. She pulled a paper towel off the roll and used it to wipe her tears and blow her nose, then braced herself to cook. She tried to recall her therapist’s words: Even routine tasks will take a lot of conscious effort, at least for a while. She had to settle for doing things one baby step at a time.

First came taking things out of the refrigerator – the carton of eggs, the package of bacon, the butter dish, the jar of jam, because April liked jam even if she didn’t. And so it went until she laid six strips of bacon in a pan on the stovetop, and she turned on the gas range under the pan.

She staggered backward at the sight of the yellow-blue flame. She shut her eyes, and it all came flooding back to her.

Riley lay in a tight crawlspace, under a house, in a little makeshift cage. The propane torch was the only light she ever saw. The rest of the time was spent in complete darkness. The floor of the crawlspace was dirt. The floorboards above her were so low that she could barely even crouch.

The darkness was total, even when he opened a small door and crept into the crawlspace with her. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him breathing and grunting. He’d unlock the cage and snap it open and climb inside.

And then he’d light that torch. She could see his cruel and ugly face by its light. He’d taunt her with a plate of wretched food. If she reached for it, he’d thrust the flame at her. She couldn’t eat without getting burned…

She opened her eyes. The images were less vivid with her eyes open, but she couldn’t shake the stream of memories. She continued to make breakfast robotically, her whole body surging with adrenaline. She was just setting the table when her daughter’s voice yelled out again.

“Mom, how long’s it going to be?”

She jumped, and her plate slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor and shattered.

“What happened?” April yelled, appearing beside her.

“Nothing,” Riley said.

She cleaned up the mess, and as she and April sat eating together, the silent hostility was palpable as usual. Riley wanted to end the cycle, to break through to April, to say, April, it’s me, your mom, and I love you. But she had tried so many times, and it only made it worse. Her daughter hated her, and she couldn’t understand why – or how to end it.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked April.

“What do you think?” April snapped. “Go to class.”

“I mean after that,” Riley said, keeping her voice calm, compassionate. “I’m your mother. I want to know. It’s normal.”

“Nothing about our lives is normal.”

They ate silently for a few moments.

“You never tell me anything,” Riley said.

“Neither do you.”

That stopped any hope for conversation once and for all.

That’s fair, Riley thought bitterly. It was truer than April even knew. Riley had never told her about her job, her cases; she had never told her about her captivity, or her time in the hospital, or why she was “on vacation” now. All April knew was that she’d had to live with her father during much of that time, and she hated him even more than she hated Riley. But as much as she wanted to tell her, Riley thought it best that April have no idea what her mother had been through.

Riley got dressed and drove April to school, and they didn’t say a word to each other during the drive. When she let April out of the car, she called after her, “I’ll see you at ten.”

April gave her a careless wave as she walked away.

Riley drove to a nearby coffee shop. It had become a routine for her. It was hard for her to spend any time in a public place, and she knew that was exactly why she had to do it. The coffee shop was small and never busy, even in the mornings like this, so she found it relatively unthreatening.

As she sat there, sipping on a cappuccino, she remembered again Bill’s entreaty. It had been six weeks, damn it. This had to change. She had to change. She didn’t know how she was going to do that.

But an idea was forming. She knew exactly what she needed to do first.

Chapter 4

The white flame of the propane torch waved in front of Riley. She had to dodge back and forth to escape being burned. The brightness blinded her to everything else and she couldn’t even see her captor’s face anymore. As the torch swirled about, it seemed to leave lingering traces hanging in the air.

“Stop it!” she yelled. “Stop it!”

Her voice was raw and hoarse from shouting. She wondered why she was wasting her breath. She knew he wouldn’t stop tormenting her until she was dead.

Just then, he raised an air horn and blew it in her ear.

A car horn blared. Riley snapped back to the present, and looked out to see the light at the intersection had just turned green. A line of drivers waited behind her vehicle, and she stepped on the gas.

Riley, palms sweating, forced the memory away and reminded herself of where she was. She was going to visit Marie Sayles, the only other survivor of her near-killer’s unspeakable sadism. She berated herself for letting the flashback overwhelm her. She had managed to keep her mind on her driving for an hour and a half now, and she had thought she was doing fine.

Riley drove into Georgetown, passing upscale Victorian homes, and parked at the address Marie had given her over the phone – a red brick townhouse with a handsome bay window. She sat in the car for a moment, debating whether to go in, and trying to summon the courage.

Finally, she exited. As she climbed the steps, she was pleased to see Marie meet her at the door. Somberly but elegantly dressed, Marie smiled somewhat wanly. Her face looked tired and drawn. From the circles under her eyes, Riley was pretty sure that she’d been crying. That came as no surprise. She and Marie had seen each other a lot during their weeks of video chats, and there was little they could hide from one another.

When they hugged, Riley was immediately aware that Marie was not as tall and robust as she’d expected her to be. Even in heels Marie was shorter than Riley, her frame small and delicate. That surprised Riley. She and Marie had talked a lot, but this was the first time they had met in person. Marie’s slightness made her seem all the more courageous to have survived what she’d been through.

Riley took in her surroundings as she and Marie walked for the dining room. The place was immaculately clean and tastefully furnished. It would normally be a cheery home for a successful single woman. But Marie kept all the curtains closed and the lights low. The atmosphere was strangely oppressive. Riley didn’t want to admit it, but it made her think of her own home.

Marie had a light lunch ready on the dining room table, and she and Riley sat down to eat. They sat there in an awkward silence, Riley sweating but unsure why. Seeing Marie was brining it all back.

“So… how did it feel?” Marie asked tentatively. “Coming out into the world?”

Riley smiled. Marie knew better than anyone what today’s drive took.

“Pretty well,” Riley said. “Actually, quite well. I only had one bad moment, really.”

Marie nodded, clearly understanding.

“Well, you did it,” Marie said. “And that was brave.”

Brave, Riley thought. That was not how she would have described herself. Once, maybe, when she was an active agent. Would she ever describe herself that way again?

“How about you?” Riley asked. “How much do you get out?”

Marie fell silent.

“You don’t leave the house at all, do you?” Riley asked.