Kimberly POV
I knew I wasn't supposed to talk to this person, but curiosity got the better of me. At first, I tried to ignore the strange message—some random person offering me help out of nowhere—but something in the words pulled at me. "Help." The idea of escaping this life, of leaving Leonardo and this sick life behind, was too tempting to resist. So, I opened the message and replied.
"Who is this?" I typed.
The response came almost instantly, making my heart skip.
"Someone who can help you."
Help. The word wrapped around me like a lifeline, and suddenly, I couldn't let go. Help meant hope. It meant a way out.
"How?" I typed quickly, my fingers trembling slightly as I hit send.
"I can help you leave that place," came the reply.
My chest tightened, and I sat up straighter on the bed, now wide awake. The weight I carried every day—the helplessness, the suffocation—shifted, just a little. Could this really be the way out?
"Help me leave here? How?"
There was a pause, just long enough to make my heart pound. I bit my lip and stared at the screen, my thumb hovering nervously over the block button.
"I can't say much here," the stranger responded, as if reading my hesitation. "But I can help you... if you want."
I hesitated. Who was this person? Why did they care? But before I could dwell on it, another message popped up.
"I know Leonardo's keeping you. I'll free you,only if you comply."
A lump formed in my throat. This person knew about Leonardo— It felt too personal, too specific. I should've blocked more messages from coming in,but instead, I found myself gripping the phone tighter.
"What do you want from me?" I asked cautiously. If this was a trap, I needed to know what they were after.
"Nothing much," they responded, the casual tone unsettling.
I frowned at the screen. "Like what?"
"Just basic things about the house. How you live there?"
The question seemed harmless on the surface, but something about it made me uneasy. Why did they need to know this?
"For what, if I may ask?"
A beat passed before the reply came.
"Did I ask why you want to leave Leonardo?"
The message hit me like a slap, making my heart race. This was risky—far riskier than I wanted to admit. But the thought of staying in Leonardo's grip forever felt worse.
The next message arrived before I could think too much about it.
"Do as I say, and you'll be free."
I stared at the words, my heart pounding. This could be it. My chance. My way out. It didn't even seem like the stranger was asking for much, just small things. Information that couldn't possibly hurt me—or so I told myself.
My mind raced. Could I trust him? But then I thought of the life I could have if I escaped. My father wouldn't have wanted me to stay trapped under the thumb of his killer. That thought alone was enough to push me forward.
"I'm in," I typed before I could change my mind.
The response came immediately.
"Great."
Just like that, the chat ended. The stranger's online status disappeared, leaving me staring at the screen, breathless and buzzing with adrenaline. It was only 10 p.m., but I knew sleep wouldn't come easily tonight. My mind raced with possibilities. "Was this real? Could I really be free soon?"
**********
The next morning, I woke up with more energy than I'd felt in weeks. For the first time in a long while, I had a reason to believe that things might change. Even Helen noticed my lighter mood, giving me a curious smile as she set down my breakfast.
"You look different today," she remarked.
I shrugged, hiding my grin. Maybe today will be a good day.
Throughout the morning, I found myself checking Instagram and my messages more than I usually did. I couldn't stop thinking about the stranger's words from last night. I scrolled through our chat again, trying to read between the lines, wondering who this person really was and if they could be trusted. Just as I was about to give up and put my phone away, I saw it—a blue arrow. The stranger was online.
My heart leapt as the arrow switched to "typing."
"Good morning, Kimberly," the message read.
I froze. How did he know my name? I scrolled back through the conversation, trying to remember if I'd told him. I hadn't.
"Good morning?" I replied, adding two question marks to mask my unease.
"Lol," came the quick response.
"I'm a he, by the way. You can call me whatever you like."
A strange sense of familiarity settled in, as if I'd known him longer than just a few days. I decided to stick with the nickname I'd given him in my head. He was just "S" to me.
"When does Leonardo usually leave the house?" he asked next.
I hesitated for a second. This felt like a serious step, but I went ahead.
"Around 9.am," I answered, my fingers hovering nervously over the screen.
"Perfect," he responded.
A small spark of excitement ignited in me. This was really happening. I could feel it. The life I'd dreamed of—free from Leonardo's control—was almost within reach.
Over the next few days, the messages became more frequent. "S" asked for small details—when the guards change shifts, what parts of the house were less monitored, when Leonardo was away. At first, the questions felt innocent, but the more I answered, the deeper I found myself pulled into this plan.
"Do the guards switch at night?" he asked one evening.
"Yeah," I responded. "Three at night, but they rotate. I'm not sure exactly when."
His questions didn't seem dangerous, and I kept convincing myself that sharing these details wouldn't hurt anyone. Each message brought me closer to the idea of escape, closer to a new life.
Three days later, S finally gave me a task.
"When Leonardo leaves tomorrow night, stay out of sight," he instructed. "I'll take care of the rest."
My pulse quickened. This was it...my way out.
"What do I need to do?" I asked, fingers trembling with anticipation.
The typing indicator appeared, and I stared at the screen, heart pounding, waiting for his response.