Jessica's voice trembled as she called out, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Mother..." she repeated, hoping her words would somehow disrupt the moment, force a pause, or bring a rational explanation that could undo the horror she was beginning to piece together.
Mrs. Hayman, seated across the table with perfect composure, simply smiled—a cold, calculating expression that did little to ease Jessica's growing panic.
"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Hayman asked, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, as though the conversation was completely ordinary.
Jessica's heart raced. "What did he just say?" she whispered, leaning forward. Her eyes darted nervously between her mother and Mr. Gonzalez, whose wide, smug grin made her feel trapped.
Mrs. Hayman sighed softly, as if she were explaining something trivial to a child. "Jessica, darling, this arrangement has been in place for quite some time. Mr. Gonzalez here has been a great business partner and..." She paused, her gaze sharpening. "...a perfect match for you. Isn't that wonderful?"
"A... match?" Jessica's voice wavered, her stomach churning. She couldn't process the words, the weight of what was happening pressing down on her chest like a boulder.
Mr. Gonzalez, still smiling, reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. Jessica recoiled, pulling her hand back instinctively. His chuckle was low and condescending.
"Don't worry, my dear. I know this might be overwhelming, but soon you'll come to understand the benefits of this union. You'll live a comfortable life, just as your mother promised."
Jessica stared at him, horror rising in her throat. She turned to her mother, desperation in her eyes. "Mother, no. I don't want this. I thought... I thought you were helping me—"
"I *am* helping you," Mrs. Hayman interrupted sharply, her voice suddenly cold. "This is the best thing for you. Mr. Gonzalez will take care of you, provide for you, and keep you safe. Isn't that what any mother would want for her daughter?"
Jessica shook her head, her world spinning. This wasn't what she wanted. This wasn't freedom, this wasn't love, this was... control. And her mother was orchestrating the entire thing.
"I thought... I thought I was starting a new life," Jessica whispered, her voice cracking as the weight of betrayal settled in. "I thought you wanted me to be happy."
Mrs. Hayman's expression didn't falter. "Happiness, Jessica, is a luxury few can afford. You'll learn that soon enough."
Tears welled up in Jessica's eyes as she looked at the man who was supposed to be her "savior," the man her mother had chosen to sell her to.
"I won't marry him," Jessica said quietly, her voice trembling but resolute.
Mr. Gonzalez chuckled again, leaning back in his chair as if this was all a game. "You don't have much of a choice, my dear. The arrangements have been made."
Jessica's pulse quickened, the fight-or-flight instinct surging through her. She stood up abruptly, knocking the chair backward. "I won't do this. You can't force me."
Mrs. Hayman's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, her mask of composure cracked. Her voice was icy and firm. "Sit down, Jessica."
"No," Jessica whispered, backing away from the table.
"Sit. Down." Mrs. Hayman's voice was a command now, filled with the authority Jessica had always feared.
But something inside Jessica snapped. The obedient, well-mannered girl her mother had carefully molded was gone, replaced by a surge of survival instinct. Without another word, Jessica turned and ran, her heart pounding in her ears.
Behind her, she could hear Mr. Gonzalez's amused voice. "She'll come around, Emma. They always do."
And then, her mother's chilling response: "She better. Or else."