As Rita heard her parents mentioned, a wave of nervousness washed over her.
She stopped in her tracks, her desire to flee the oppressive room battling with her need to know what had befallen her parents—the people who once showered her with love and stood as her favorite figures in the world.
Striving for composure, she inquired, "What's happened to them? Tell me."
Robert, with a smirk plastered on his face, slouched in the corner, eyeing Rita with a lecherous gaze.
"Oh, so now you're interested in staying? Get on your knees and beg, and maybe, just maybe, I'll spill the beans."
"In your dreams!" Rita snapped back.
"Figured as much," Robert taunted. "You know, Rita, as an old buddy, I think you should drop by and see your parents now and then. They're still your parents after all. You wouldn't want to be heartless towards them, would you?"
"Get lost! What did you do to them?" she demanded, her voice rising.
He sidled up to her, his hand inappropriately squeezing her, his breath hot on her ear.
"With that attitude, I'm not telling you squat. If you really care about your parents, head to Lew City. And don't even think about running away again--I know where you work."
He brushed past Rita, ignoring the scowl of rage etching her face.
Once he was gone, Rita seethed inwardly, "You scumbag, if you've hurt my parents, I swear you'll pay for it!"
Despite her resolve, the reality of her financial situation and her identity weighed heavily on her.
She knew she was no match for Robert, especially not in Lew City, where he held considerable sway.
Back at her place, sitting alone in the silent living room, she felt a crushing sense of helplessness.
There was no one to turn to for help.
Sure, Esther would always have her back, but even Esther was no match for Robert.
"I thought I'd be relieved with Jefferson gone, but that's not how I feel at all. If Jefferson were here, maybe he could've helped... but things are so complicated between us now," she mused, fighting back tears.
Rita wished sleep would come quickly, hoping it might temporarily banish her worries.
---
"Rita! Rita! Why won't you agree to the marriage? You're the reason we're suffering in hell!"
The accusatory voices were sharp and piercing.
"Who are you? Leave, now!" Rita's voice trembled with confusion and fear.
"How dare you tell us to leave? We're your parents! We brought you into this world! We raised you, gave you everything, and you just stood by, watching us burn in hell. We won't let you get away with it. We're going to drag you down to hell with us, and we will never forgive you, you ungrateful child! Now, go to hell!!!"
The vision of her parents lunging at her with a knife was vivid and terrifying.
---
"Ahhhhh!" Rita's scream shattered the silence, a sound so loud it jolted her awake.
She bolted upright, her forehead slick with sweat, staring blankly at the wall.
"Rita! Are you alright?" The concerned voice cut through her panic.
Turning, Rita saw Jefferson's worried face.
"Jeff..." Her voice cracked, no longer able to contain the flood of anxiety, fear, and worry.
She flung her arms around him, holding on for dear life as she sobbed uncontrollably.
"Shhh, it's okay. It was just a bad dream. None of it was real," Jefferson soothed, his hand gently stroking her back, trying to calm her shaking form.
His own mix of emotions-confusion, frustration, care-now converged into a deep sense of sympathy for her.
As Rita's breathing steadied and she found her composure, Jefferson gently released her from his embrace.
He headed to the bathroom and returned with a towel in hand. "Here, wipe off the sweat. Try to forget about that nightmare, okay?" he said, handing it to her.
Rita, now surprisingly calm compared to her earlier hysteria, took the towel with a quiet "Thanks, Jefferson. You know, this is the first time you've spoken to me in days."
Jefferson was taken aback. He hadn't realized she was paying attention to that.
"Oh, I didn't think you... were you waiting for me to talk to you?" he asked, a bit awkwardly.
"What? No! Of course not! I just figured you weren't going to talk to me ever again," Rita replied, a little flustered.
"That's not possible. I'm your boss, right? At the very least, I have to acknowledge when you're doing a good job. Maybe even give you a reward, or a promotion or something," Jefferson said with a small smile.
Rita chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Let me be clear, I wasn't expecting you to talk to me!"
He took the towel back from her and started to help her dab away the sweat.
"I know, I know. I just wanted to talk to you. It's been strange, you know? Not being able to go home, or talk to my wife. Okay?" he explained.
At the mention of the word 'wife,' Rita's cheeks warmed, and she felt a surprising sense of comfort.
"You should try to get some more sleep, Rita. It's only 4 am," Jefferson suggested.
"And what about you?" she asked.
"Me? I'll catch some Z's too. But you first," he insisted.
"Thanks, Jeff..." she murmured, feeling genuinely grateful.
"It's nothing. Just have a sweet dream this time, okay?" With that, he sat beside her, pulling the blanket over her shoulders.
With someone by her side, Rita felt safe enough to let go of her fears about her parents and Robert.
'He's like a safe zone,' she thought.
And with that comforting thought, she drifted back to sleep.
The next morning, Rita was awakened by sunlight streaming into the room.
She noticed Jefferson asleep beside her and thought to herself, 'He really is a good guy.'
A smile graced her face as she tried not to wake him.
She decided to make him a sandwich for breakfast, as a thank you for his company the night before.
As Rita busied herself in the kitchen, Jefferson woke up and went through his morning routine.
He greeted her with a simple "Morning."
However, Rita's heart inexplicably sped up.
Ever since she found out Jefferson wasn't gay and that they had almost shared an intimate moment, she found it hard to meet his gaze.
Jefferson, oblivious to her inner turmoil, sat down beside her and casually asked, "We're good now, right?"