Hunger had taken the best of her. She could feel her stomach gnawing on itself, leaving her with no choice but to devour the food brought to her. A sense of ease fell over her. It was nothing special, just a loaf of bread with some watery tomato soup, but it tasted heavenly after being starved for almost three days. She finally took a breath of life and sat on the edge of the mattress that had been given to her. Never in her life had Viviana expected to go through such a thing, or live in such conditions, but everything had changed in the blink of an eye. She gazed around the room, watching the roof with hostility.
"There has to be a way. I can't be stuck here forever, confused for being someone else. I need to find a way to get back to Grandpa. I am sure if I tell him who I am, he will accept me, even if..." She looked down at her body and clenched her teeth before continuing. "Even if this is not me. I just have to convince him," she muttered. "But before that, how do I get out of here?"
Her legs had become jittery ever since the anxiety of the situation had started to gnaw at her. The past two days had made her realise that sitting in the corner, crying about what had happened, wouldn't change a thing. She had to actively do something to change her situation.
"But first, I need to take a bath. I stink." She hissed and lifted her arm, smelling her shirt that reeked, making her nose sting. She got to her feet and reached the door, which had been left unlocked after Kiera had brought her food. Unlike before, when it was always locked. She opened it and looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Sure enough, she was kept under great guard. Two men stood by the door, and two more stood across the hall, watching the door as if it were something very entertaining. Her presence at the door made one of the men walk in her direction.
"What is it?"
"I—I need to take a bath," she replied, her voice still hoarse and dry, sounding nothing like a person in good health.
"Hmm," he nodded. "This way," he said and walked into the hallway. This was how Viviana had been escorted to the restroom or anywhere at all for the past two days. It felt overly done, but they were afraid a skinny body like hers would somehow trick them all and run out of this fortress of a mansion that they had brought her to after the previous location. The man stopped outside the door before pointing towards a maid who was casually passing by.
"Bring him clothes," he said, ordering. The maid seemed offended by this but rolled her eyes and walked away.
The guard led her to a small, windowless bathroom. The tiled walls were cracked, and the flickering fluorescent light gave the room an eerie glow. It didn't seem like a part of the extravagant mansion as it was in a very bad condition.
She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her with a heavy thud. For a moment, she stood there looking at the door then turning briefly and getting a glimpse of her reflection and the expression on her face turned sour instantly. The face staring back at her was foreign, yet the eyes—those dark, haunted eyes—The boy from the airport was the only thing she could remember when she saw that face. "How did I end up like this? Of all people, I had to end up like that person? Who was he? No it was a girl in disguise. Running."
She shuddered and shook her head before reaching out to the faucet, letting the water run until it warmed. She stripped off her filthy clothes, finally pulling off the bandages on her chest. For some reason, they seemed to be a crucial part of this body's identity. She couldn't bring herself to get rid of them, even though she now had the opportunity. The face of the real owner of this body flashed before her eyes whenever she thought of revealing her identity as a woman. It seemed like a warning. Unsure, she decided to take it seriously—everything she had seen or heard recently seemed to have become true, so she couldn't take any risks.
She placed the bandages aside and stepped into the tiny shower stall. The water cascaded over her, washing away days of grime and fear. For a few minutes, she allowed herself to simply feel—the warmth of the water contrasting sharply with the cold reality of her situation.
As she scrubbed her skin raw, her mind raced. "I have to get out of here. I have to find a way," she whispered to herself, her voice echoing off the tiled walls. But how? Every exit was guarded, and she was under constant surveillance.
After what felt like an eternity, she stepped out of the shower and dried herself with a rough towel. The maid had left a set of clothes on a small stool by the door—a plain shirt and pants that were a bit too big for her new frame. She turned to look at the bandages, which were now too filthy for her to even touch after she had cleaned herself. She thought for a while and then knocked on the door of the washroom from the inside.
"What is it?" asked the maid, still outside.
"Ca-can I get some bandages?" she asked in a small voice, but there was no response from outside, making her feel like she had to make do with the dirty ones. Suddenly, the door opened slightly, and the maid handed over a thick roll of bandages before shutting it again. Surprised, Viviana's eyebrows lifted. "That was quick," she muttered and then started to wrap her chest once more until she could feel like her lungs were being crushed.