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My eyes drift to Zade, his expression tight. An overwhelming sadness washes through me, muddling my feelings toward Rio further. In a way, he became my friend while I was trapped in that house. And for over two months, I was being forced to do things against my will, never realizing Francesca was ordering him to do the same.

There’s a part of me that still clings to that hate, but it’s weakening.

He kid

napped me. Ruthlessly fed me to the wolves and stood by while faceless men repeatedly broke me. Yet, he picked up the pieces afterward. Gathered them in his hands and carried them to my room, where he meticulously placed them back together—as janky as it was.

I want to hate him. But I don't know that I do.

“Thank you for telling me that,” I say softly.

Her bottom lip trembles. “I know I lost an eye, but I think Rio has lost so much more than I have. I hope he’s okay, and safe, wherever he is.”

I blink back fresh tears and nod my head. “Me too.”

We let Katerina get back to her gardening after promising I’d visit again. Sensing my inner turmoil, Zade keeps quiet as he leads me to another part of the sanctuary. There are two girls tending to chicken pens, plucking the eggs from underneath them.

I gasp, coming to a halt when one of them turns, and I get a good look at her features.

“Jillian,” I breathe. She turns at her name, and her eyes bug from her head.

“Oh my God,” she says, her accent deepening from shock. Then, she’s hurriedly setting down the basket of eggs and rushing toward me.

We meet in the middle, our arms instantly wrapping around each other in a fierce hug.

Due to Francesca’s mind games, we could hardly stand to look at each other when she and Gloria were sold. But all of that immediately bleeds away now that we’re free.

My vision blurs, and when we pull away, I can see tears swimming in her eyes, too.

“How are you?” I choke out, chuckling when her nose wrinkles.

“As good as I can be, which isn’t saying much,” she answers.

I nod, “Same. Kind of feels like a slow death.”

Her lips twist, and she shrugs, attempting nonchalance. “I feel that, too. I’ve been seeing Dr. Maybell, though. And all this—” she twirls her finger, gesturing to this farm— “has helped a lot, as well. Being surrounded by others with similar experiences and having something to keep me busy prevents me from spiraling. I was on the streets before, and part of me didn’t want to be rescued because I’d have to go back to that. So, this… this has really saved me.”

She glances at Zade, clearly uncomfortable with her admission, but she only straightens her spine instead of hiding. Sharing feelings is… hard.

“Happy to help,” Zade says simply, his face smooth but his orbs glitter with warmth.

He’s a cold-blooded killer yet easily melts beneath a survivor’s hopeful gaze. It impacts him as much as it does me because when you’re trapped and terrified, hope is the first thing you lose, and the most devastating. So, getting it back… that’s one of the best gifts we could ask for.

My lip trembles, and I can’t decide if I want to hug her again or turn and smack a large one right on Zade’s lips. I’m incredibly happy for Jillian, and it feels like some of the cracks in my soul mend just a little more.

We find a spot by one of the pens and talk for a good hour while Zade helps the other girl with the chickens, leaving us alone. She tells me a little about her life before she was taken, and I tell her about mine. She made me promise to bring her a signed copy of one of my books, and it honestly tore my heart out as much as it mended it. I miss writing, but I know I’m not ready for that yet.

Eventually, we leave Jillian to her work while Zade shows me around the rest of the small village. There are classrooms for the children, workshops for the elder kids, and plenty of activities to give them all something to work toward. The adults are also taught skills and trades that will allow them to get jobs, along with teaching life skills and giving them the necessary tools to support themselves.

Of course, no one is required to leave, but the last thing Zade wants to do is strip people of their independence, so those who want to go out and experience the world and lead normal lives are able to do so.

There’s even a stable with horses, offering equine therapy for the survivors. And of course, there’s several on-site therapists, Dr. Maybell being one of them.

My memory is a little spotty from when I first came home, but I never forgot her warmth. The few times she visited, she helped more than I realized. And sometime soon, I plan on seeing her again and more regularly.

We spend hours playing with the children and speaking with other survivors. I even met Sarah, the little girl who is still very insistent on Zade becoming her daddy. His eyes were a warm gooey mess when they looked over to me while Sarah jumped all over him, and for one insane second, I almost said yes right then and there.

He’s going to make a great father one day, but that day isn’t today. Not when I’m still learning how to pick up the pieces without cutting myself.