Page 133 of Marks of Rebellion

"But—"

"No. You won't win on this one, so let it go."

I search for hours, collecting red hibiscuses and vines. When I have a massive pile, I put several dozen into each bouquet and tie the vines around each end. The next few hours I spend on the edge of the jungle. I toss the vines up in trees and tug them until the bouquets are in the air then secure each end to the tree so they don't fall.

Since Mack is around, I get some sleep, which is the first night I've slept for more than an hour.

When I wake up, I grab my binoculars and get back into my position where I can watch for her.

It's after eight when she comes out. She has a cup of coffee and walks to the railing. A smile forms on her face, and new tears fall. She puts her hand over her heart again then flips it so her palm faces me.

I'm coming for you, Flower. I'm here, and I'm coming.

No matter what, I will kill Carlos and any of the men who try to protect him and get in my way. But I need to make sure that she doesn't kill herself first, and he doesn't break her to the point of no return.

25

Vanessa

Days move slowly.Trepidation about having to go to an event with Carlos grows with every minute that passes. The red hibiscuses are the only thing that helps me keep going and not end it all.

Hunter is out there. He's alive. And every day that passes and I see the flowers moved tells me that he's not forgotten me.

For countless hours, I sit on the balcony and fixate on the flowers in the trees. Every night he moves them. I'm guessing he collects more because they are always vibrant in color and in full bloom.

The ordinary person wouldn't know that he's moved them. It's small adjustments he makes. But I know.

Everyone is so intent on watching me. No one seems to notice the flowers in the trees from far away.

I notice every inch of change.

Arja comes every day, commanding me about things I need to stop doing in front of Carlos.

I fear the straitjacket and asylum. But every time he comes near, I lose it. My body betrays me, and I can't seem to keep it together.

He sleeps next to me, holding me in his arms as I cry nightly. His patience wears thin, and he tells me so, but he hasn't physically hurt me yet. The more he threatens, the more I cocoon into my shell and panic attacks.

Last night, he took a different approach. He didn't threaten me. He murmured in my ear how much he loves and missed me.

My gut churned the entire time, but I didn't fall into another attack. I thought I might, but I only trembled in fear.

After they freed me from the white cloth, I began to get more "privileges." The day after, Arja brought me downstairs and told me I could roam the house freely. The day after that, I had to start eating dinner with Carlos and not in my room. Lunches I'm still able to have on my balcony.

I keep to myself, spending hardly any time downstairs and almost all my time on the balcony, staring at the red hibiscuses, wondering how Hunter is and if I will ever be able to touch him again.

I crave his arms and humor and kisses that made me feel alive. I miss waking up next to him. I'd do anything to have him hold me when I have the same reoccurring night terror instead of Carlos trying to comfort me.

Since I'm such a mess, Carlos hasn't tried anything with me. While he gives me kisses on my forehead and cheek, he doesn't attempt anything more than that. One time he tried to kiss me on the lips. I had a horrible panic attack. He called the doctor who told him it is the guerrillas' and Santiago's fault I'm messed up, and it was just going to take time.

My assumption is he's doing what Arja instructs him. For that and that alone, I'm grateful to her.

On the tenth day, I wake up, dreading what lies ahead. There is a party at the Mexican embassy, and Carlos is insisting I join him.

An electric-blue cocktail dress hangs on the back of the door hanger for me to wear, and it's the first thing I see when I open my eyes. The note attached says,

Vanessa,

I'm looking forward to showing you off tonight.