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For a brief moment, I’m a child again, unaware of the violence and trauma that will one day shape my life. I simply wait, anticipating the prize my mother promises if I play the game well.
In the present, I’m yanked upright by Damian, his arms pulling me into his chest. “Come on, we have to get out of here,” he urges, his voice laced with concern.
I feel the warmth of his body, the fabric of his shirt rough against my skin, but it is as if I’m disconnected from it all. The blood that smears onto him doesn’t register in my mind.
Damian ushers me out of the house, but before we leave, I see Edo quickly moving Mark’s body, arranging it in a chair and tying him up. “This will make it look like a robbery gone wrong,” Edo mutters, casting a wary glance in my direction.
Damian says something else, but I’m trapped in my own thoughts, my consciousness keeping me in that closet. Faint footsteps outside the closet grow louder, and my mother trembles.
“If you’re very quiet, you’ll win,” she breathes again, gathering me into her arms and holding me close.
In the car, I hear Nat’s worried voice, but her words sound distant and muffled, as if I’m underwater. Damian’s arms tighten around me, his touch barely registering. I’m trapped, my mind lost in the past, oblivious to everything around me.
When we arrive back at the mansion, Damian scoops me up and carries me upstairs to my room. I’m still trapped in the memory of the closet, my mother’s terrified breathing echoing in my mind.
I can feel Damian gently stripping me of my blood-stained clothes. I hope he burns them. As he cleans the remnants of violence from my body, the closet door suddenly opens and my mother’s agonized screams fill my ears. I panic, my body thrashing as I cry out.
“Mommy! Mommy, no!” I scream, my voice raw with terror.
“Alexis! Alexis, it’s okay. You’re safe,” Damian says, his strong hands gripping my shoulders, trying to ground me in the present. But the memories are too vivid, the pain too real.
I can see my mother’s face twisted in fear as she shields me from the unseen danger. The acrid smell of smoke and the metallic tang of blood fill my senses, transporting me back to that fateful day.
I thrash against Damian’s hold, desperate to reach my mother, to save her. Tears stream down my face as I beg, “Please, help her! Don’t let them hurt her!” The anguish in my voice is palpable, a raw reminder of the trauma that has shaped me.
Damian pulls me into his chest, enveloping me in a fierce embrace. Then, in a soft, soothing voice, he begins to sing a gentle Italian lullaby, the familiar melody washing over me.
“Dormi, dormi, bel bambino,
Dormi, dormi senza affanni.
La tua mamma è qui vicino,
Veglia i tuoi tranquilli sonni.”
The comforting words and the gentle cadence of his voice slowly coax me back from the brink of despair. Damian’s warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat anchor me in the present, chasing away the ghosts of my past.
I cling to him, my body trembling as the adrenaline begins to subside. “Stay with me, please,” I beg, my voice small and trembling. I can’t bear the thought of being alone, not when the horrors of my past are so vividly alive in my mind.
Damian nods and settles on the bed beside me. The familiar scent of his cologne and the comfort of his embrace finally allow me to let go, the tension draining my muscles as exhaustion takes over.
He carefully tucks me into bed, never once leaving my side. I feel safe, secure in the knowledge that I’m no longer alone. As I drift off to sleep, lulled by the soothing melody of his lullaby, I know that—for now—the ghosts of my past will not haunt me.
As I slowly open my eyes, the first thing I notice is Damian sleeping peacefully beside me. His face looks so much younger in repose, the harsh lines and tension smoothed away. I find myself studying his features, wondering how I ended up back in this house.
But then the memories come rushing back—Mark finding me outside the Carter house, the gunshot, the way Mark’s warm blood had soaked into my clothes, how his limp body felt on top of mine as I struggled to get him off.
Bile rises in my throat, and I scramble out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom as the nausea overwhelms me.
Damian is instantly by my side, holding my hair back as I retch violently into the toilet. “You’re okay, Alexis. The first kill is always the hardest,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he gently rubs circles on my back.
I can’t stop the sobs that rack my body, the anguish and revulsion pouring out of me. “I–I can still feel it, Damian. His blood, all over me…” I choke out between heaves. The visceral memory of that moment is seared into my mind, the metallic scent and the warmth of the crimson fluid haunting me.
Damian pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. “I know, I know. But you’re safe now. You’re going to be okay,” he whispers.
I cling to him, desperate for the comfort and security he offers.
As my sobs slowly subside, I can’t help but wonder how he found me. Pulling back slightly, I look up at him, my eyes still glistening with tears.
