Idalia jolted awake immediately, the red light of the room disarming her sight, forcing her eyes to adjust to its dimness.
Where was—-
Where—-
She swept her hand swiftly across her face to snap the rest of the grogginess away from her head, and the low rattling of the chains around her wrists filled her ears at her quick movement.
Chains?
Her heart skipped a beat.
Her gaze jerked around, sweeping over the bars that caged her into this small space, to the black suited man standing next to the door, which was some distance away from her, and finally, on the man whose back was turned to her.
Under the small white light emitting from the table lamp, his black-gloved fingers that had been tapping against a document immediately stilled.
Back, rigid.
Did he have her baby? Was he— for science?! By Argon!
She hastily tried to see past him, but his broad frame did not allow her that privilege.
Her hands began to tremble, and her breath quickened, her mind racing between logic and madness, as different gruesome images of Arik raced through her mind.
"Finally. You're awake." A cold, deep voice rumbled through the silence in the room. The man turned to her, his hand that she had expected her baby to be carried in — shoved into his pocket, and, more importantly, there were no traces of blood on his face, his rolled up sleeves, or the rest of his pristine white shirt.
A short-lived relief.
If Arik wasn't here, then where was he?
"Miss Julie Summers."
Her heart dropped. She sprang up to her feet, her gaze shifting swiftly from the documents, which she now knew were hers, to him.
Him.
Who was he?
She couldn't tell; the terrible lighting of the room shrouded his face in darkness.
What more did he know?!
"Where is my son?!" She yelled, jamming her hands against the bars. "Please, don't hurt him. He is just a child, please."
She wanted to shift, rip these bars out of their places, yank away his head, and that of the man at the door? But what if they had guns? She didn't even know where her son was, or where this was, or if there were more of these Midline warriors around.
Besides that, shifting would make her have to face Alpha Kalio's searchers or the Alpha himself.
Shifting was far too dangerous. She had to find another way.
Think, Idalia. Think!
"Please, what do you want from us?" Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face. "Just give me my Leo. Give me my son."
For seconds that felt like centuries, the silence stretched between them. He finally took a step forward, his shoes echoing gently against the floor. The closer he got, the more her throat tightened with fear as a realization dawned upon her. Her hands loosened around the bars, she took a step back, and from her trembling lips came one word.
"You."
The man on the train. The one with the gun!
Without his coat and his hat, she could see him clearly now. Early 30s, tall, quite built, black-haired buzzcut, icy green eyes behind framed glasses, sharp features, a low stubble.
Beyond all of that was this weary, unsettling feeling that threatened to strangle her at the mere sight of him. It wasn't just because she had witnessed him use a gun; there was just something about him that terrified her. Turned out her gut feeling was right, because here she was in a cage with no knowledge of where her son was or how he was, and that had happened all because of him
He had sent those men! Was it because he knew? Had he brought them here because of their human science?
Tears ran down her cheeks.
"Please, he's just a baby," the words subconsciously slipped past her lips.
He stopped at the word 'baby', a frown taking over his face, his shadow stretching into her cage, his presence towering over her.
Idalia gulped.
Monsters. He saw them as monsters.
He knew.
"Is my son still alive?" Her voice trembled despite how much she had tried to sound confident. Arik had no wolf yet; pups at such an early stage wouldn't have any wolf. There was no way she could feel him. Her heart was ripping apart; more of those gruesome images were now pouring into her mind, blending with that of Grandpa Alfred's desecrated corpse.
He folded his arms across his chest. "That depends on whether you'll tell me the truth."
"How do I know you've not killed him already?!" She yelled, saying the last words through gritted teeth.
His frown deepened, his gaze heavy on her.
Silence.
"Ahhhhhh!" She shouted, sweeping her hands over her cloche hat and collapsing to the floor in defeat, her lips quivering, her heart shattering. "I'll tell you the truth. I swear on my life." Her hand pushed back the cloche hat, digging into her micro shoulder-length locs as she looked up at him. "On my son's life."
"Who," he dipped his hands into his pockets as a chilling glint flickered in his eyes, "or shall I say what, are you running away from and why?"
Idalia's hands tightened around the bars, digging into her palms, threatening to bite into her gloves.
The truth.
She shook. "No… I—I—-"
The man turned his attention away from her, like she was some spectacle he was bored with, and he signalled to the black-suited man at the door, who nodded immediately and stepped out of the room.
"NO!" She jammed her hands against the bars. "NO, PLEASE! I DON'T HAVE MONEY!" She sucked in a quick, ragged breath. "That's why. Please don't hurt him. This is the truth."
Words rushed past her trembling lips, hot tears running down her cheeks as she spoke in a quivering, pleading voice. She didn't stop to catch her breath, not even once.
"I have no money! A whole 2 million meric! Where am I supposed to get that from? I'm just an orphan who got into a relationship with the wrong guy so I could survive. Yes, for money. I don't care."
She sprang up to her feet. "I DON'T CARE!"
Then she began to pace around.
"But he didn't even have it. He was broke, worse than I was, living on huge debts with a gambling problem, and I didn't even know. And now? Now he is dead. A car ran him over, and we all saw it. And his debt is now mine?!" She laughed bitterly, wiping away her tears angrily.
"I'm a single mother with a child, debts more than I'll ever be worth, and loan sharks looking for me. Then I got into the wrong train with weird things that wanted to eat me and my baby, and now I'm here, and my baby is gone."
She fell to her knees, looking up at him as she brought her hands together and begged, her voice breaking with tears.
"My baby is all I have. Please. I don't know what you want, but I don't have it. Please, just give Leo back to me, and let us go. I want to trust that he is alive—- that you wouldn't hurt people who have done nothing to you. Let us go, please. I'll say nothing. I saw nothing. I don't even know you, and no one listens to me anyway. I am nothing. Please, just let us go."
Did he believe her?
She couldn't tell.
By Argon, he was unreadable.
Stoic.
The door pushed open at that moment. The suited man was back, and Arik was nowhere to be found. Instead, he had some documents in his hand, and while he walked past her to meet the man in front of her, she couldn't help but notice that he looked like the gangsters in Cider District that she had learned to avoid: a tattoo on his bald head that stretched down his neck, beneath the collar of his black shirt.
At that moment, she felt this was in no way connected to the government of Valmere. Not that it was better, but this realization made her ponder who these men were and what they wanted.
She watched the tattooed man show the documents in his hand to the Gun Man as he whispered something to him.
Her heart began to race so fast she feared it would explode. She had heard of the equipment humans used to ensure people were telling the truth whenever they were asked a question, although her father had taught her different ways to control the rate of her heartbeat so it wouldn't betray her in moments like this, and she had never failed at it, this time around, a silver of doubt was starting tio bild in her heart.
At that moment, the Gun Man's eyes caught hers.
Rage had flashed in them.
By Argon, what were those documents? What had he tattooed man said to him? Had she been caught in her lie? Had she just doomed her son?