I was greeted by smirks that the Rogers family carried. Mark Rogers and his elder daughter, Savannah Rogers. They were sitting in the garden sofa when I reached their house with Hunter.
The family was having their father-teen daughter time in the garden with pride, because they own this place. Hunter told me that this area is a private property basically owned by Mark Rogers, but he converted this area into a community neighbourhood for his employees. That's why this area is well-planned. His employee gets a salary along with the house in exchange for their lifetime loyalty. And if they want to leave this place they had to sign omertà (among the Mafia, a code of silence about criminal activity and a refusal to give evidence to the police).
It sounds dangerous. His employees practically devote their whole lives to him, still, he doesn't trust them. I was disgusted by his trust issues.
Hunter let out about his past when I asked him because I believe he's too young to be involved in such works. He had an abusive father who killed his wife i.e., Hunter's mother but his grandmother saved him. They both were wandering on the street when Mark found them. He was 10 years old then and now he's 17. He was given food, shelter, school. Then everything became fine.
Hunter was assigned as a personal bodyguard to Savannah and that's why he was admitted to the same school as her by Mark so that he could report her every activity. He was being trained for a very young age, so he's considered as one of the most trusted team members of MARK ROGERS.
“Señorita?” Victor was amused. “How did you know that she will be back?” He asked Mark.
“Mind your own business.” He got his answer. “Miss. Thompson help Miss Bell to settle down.” Mark gave me an intense glance as if he was studying me.
“You look awful,” Jennifer was standing on the porch. “You ran like an athlete.” She smiled and led me to my so-called room, which a bit changed now. Earlier, clothes were piled up on the bed but now I see a small wardrobe at the corner near the bathroom door. With a small dressing table and designed rack near the repaired window along with the white curtain gave this room a little homey look.
“Elizabeth, do you need anything?” She asked me while opening the wardrobe for me.
“Yes- please call me Beth.”
She smiled. “Do you want anything special for dinner, Beth?”
“Then have a refreshing bath before dinner.”
I took a hot shower to relieve my aching muscles. My bathroom was small with a shower and tap with a single bucket but it was enough for me since I hardly got to bathe, having your own bathroom was like a dream comes true.
My stomach growled when Jennifer informed me about dinner being served in the room. I heard her laughing while leaving the room.
Finally, I got ready to take my dinner alone, wearing a t-shirt dress which was a light red that made me feel like walking tomato from head to toe. Problems with redhead.
But being a comfortable dress, I wore it. I assumed this dress belongs to Savannah. I choose not to dry my hair and looked for any lotion around the room for my aching feet but nothing was available.
After I ate dinner in silence, staring outside the window only to find darkness. There was nothing visible outside but at least for a while, it was interesting to stare at nothing. And it kept me busy for a few hours.
Well! What do you expect from a mother who can't even say goodbye to her child?
My chains of thoughts were broken by someone crying. Actually, it's a baby. I followed the voice, it was from the other side of the door.
This unbearable crying of a child that ached my heart. I wanted to comfort that baby. I could imagine Eli crying loud for me.
I had the urge to open the door, and surprisingly it was unlocked because remember it was locked before my failed escape.
I searched for switches in the darkroom by touching the walls and once I switched on the lights, the cries became horrible. I saw a black-haired toddler wearing a pink onesie, trying to stand with the help of cribs. It's a girl. Her face was red with full of tears, and she was crying on top of her voice.
I took careful steps towards her trying not to scare her. She raised her both hands clearly indicating that she wants to be in the arm, but she lost her balance and fell on her bed. It must have hurt her because after that she was crying louder than last time.
I lifted her to hold in my arms, and like a good girl, she didn't deny. She was a very healthy baby and it had problems to hold her. She had chubby cheeks, hands, actually, everything about her is chubby. I looked at her clearly. She is little Sylvia.
I checked her diaper which was fine and I fed her milk that was kept just beside her bed. By the time she finished her food, she was tired and gave me a cute yawn.
I smiled at her when she keeps her head on my chest and started humming. She looks so grown up. Last time, she was just 5 months old. I followed her to hum the same tune to match her. And soon she was sleeping in my aching arms holding me tight.
She almost whimpered when I left her in her bed. So I patted her back, humming her songs. With the intention that she won't be alone when she's awake, I arranged toys around her while humming her song.
I immediately stopped when I felt someone's eye on me. It was scary. I mean there are just two of us. Yet I turned around to look everywhere to be sure but it only me and Sylvia. I gathered courage and pulled the duvet over her little chubby body and kept a rag doll little far from her face, not wanting to scare her when she's awake.
Finally, with a kiss, I left her to sleep in peace but I didn't close the door so that I could reach her if she gets up anytime.
But All this time, I could feel someone's eye on me but tried to avoid it. And I prayed that I am just imagining.