Page 3 of The Life of Anna, Tenth Anniversary Edition, Act 2

Alex sat in the chair in his tower prison room, book in hand, but staring out the tall window at the melting snow on the ground. He had sat in this chair every day for the past two years, watching the seasons pass by. The only thing that changed, besides the weather, was the length of his hair and beard. He’d accepted that he was never going home, never going to see Anna again, never see his family again.

They’d tried to escape. Once. About a month after they arrived. Michael and Jesse had been killed. Vitaly’s men had shot them as Alex and his men had run toward the opening in the stone wall that enclosed the vast property.

Alex winced, the memory of Michael and Jesse’s urgent shouts still vivid in his mind. They’d implored him and the others to keep going, to escape as they lay on the ground, wounded. But Alex wouldn’t abandon his men. They’d turned back to assist their two injured comrades, intending to fight their way out, but to their dismay, Vitaly had more men on the property than Alex had known about. As they attempted to rescue the wounded, they were encircled and outnumbered, leaving them no room to maneuver.

Vitaly’s men had bound the uninjured men and made them watch as Michael and Jesse were dragged by their legs back to the castle. Vitaly had then commanded the two men be strung up by their ankles from the oak tree Alex could see from his window. They were then beaten and tortured all afternoon while the others were forced to watch. When they stopped responding, they were left outside overnight. In the morning, they were dead.

Vitaly had Erich and Seth strung up in their places and beat them very nearly to death. But they weren’t killed, although Alex suspected they wished they had been. It took them almost six months to recover, and Seth still walked with a limp, while Erich’s left side didn’t quite work the same.

Every day, Alex stared out his window at that oak tree, a towering warning to behave. Months had passed before the earth finally absorbed the bloodstains.

For a prison, Alex supposed it wasn’t so bad, now that they’d accepted their fate. Vitaly fed them well. They could request time in the library or other parts of the castle, one at a time, with two armed guards. They all had their own rooms with attached bathrooms at the top of the eastern tower. The floor was locked down, but their rooms rarely were, and they spent most of their days in the open area in the center of the tower. A large window above the spiral staircase allowed in the sunlight... when it bothered to shine.

Vitaly sent them outside once a day, summer or winter. They were watched through sniper rifles from afar and by a dozen armed guards nearby. And the guards had been instructed to thwart the tiniest hint of escape with extreme prejudice. They’d found that out the hard way when, about a year ago, Greg kicked a ball too close to their boundary line on accident and Alex had gone after it. A sniper had shot him in the shoulder.

Anna had appeared in his room while he’d been recovering. She was faint and incoherent, as if doped up on drugs, and he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream. She hadn’t come again. Perhaps it was for the best.

Despair and depression loomed at the edges of his mind, but he tried hard not to let them take hold. Vitaly loved tormenting Alex and the others. He refused to let them know about anything going on outside the compound. But he loved hinting that Anna had moved on, married to some American Elder-Son that abused her as badly as Devin had.

Vlad was almost as bad when he came to visit, though Alex suspected he was more reasonable. Vitaly was as evil as Devin. Vlad wasn’t manipulative and didn’t seem to find joy in tormenting him.

Maybe when Vitaly dies, there might be a chance...

Alex shook his head. There was no point in daydreaming about it. He couldn’t risk someone else dying.

A wisp of a sound by the bed made his heart leap. He knew that sound.

“Alex . . .”

Alex jumped to his feet and stepped forward, but stopped himself when she stepped back. “Anna?” She was so thin and pale. Her hair hung limp around her face and her eyes had dark circles beneath them. And her beautiful green eyes... oh, such despair!

“Are you really here?” His voice rasped against his throat and he shook his head, realizing he’d spoken in German. He repeated the question in English.

Her eyes widened and she stepped back again, shaking her head. “You’re dead. This isn’t real. No!” She wrapped her arms around herself and disappeared as she fell to her knees.

His jaw trembled and he fell back into the chair, bewildered at the anger in her voice. She’d come to him; it hadn’t been a hallucination. His beloved Schatzi had come to him at last, and it had caused her so much pain.

He stared at the spot, willing Anna to return, until the sun went down and Seth limped in.

“Dinner.”

Alex shook his head, not looking up. “She came.” His voice broke as he looked up at his friend.

Seth looked around the room. “Anna?”

Alex nodded. “She came and she hated me.”

Seth shook his head. “Not possible. She’d never hate you.”

“She hated me before we got married.”

“That was different. She was hurt. She didn’t hate you.”

Alex frowned. “She thinks I’m dead. You don’t think that hurts her? I betrayed her. I never returned like I promised.”

“It’s not your fault, Alex. You know that. We tried to escape.”

Alex winced, remembering Seth had paid dearly for their escape attempt. He still had scars on his chest and when the weather turned cold, his formerly broken arm and leg ached like nobody’s business.

Seth sat on the bed. “What happened?”

Alex told him about Anna’s brief visit and then closed his eyes.

“You’ve been gone for two years and you haven’t seen her since you first got here. She was probably scared and hurting.” Seth shook his head. “I know Anna. She would never hate you. Never.”

Alex swallowed, hope flickering in his heart. “You think so?”

Seth laughed. “Either that or your appearance scared the shit out of her. Have you looked at yourself lately?”

“What’s the point?” Alex grimaced. “Do I look that bad?”

“You look better than a hobo on the street, but just barely.”

He chuckled. “Maybe I should trim my beard.”

“The beard’s not so bad. It’s your hair that scares me. Are you sure there’s no rats living in it?”

Alex let a smile creep over his face. Seth was the one person in the world that could make him laugh in the depths of his despair. He thanked God for him every day.