Submitting novel Chapter 22

The chair scraped against the carpeted floor, not loud but the cocooning silence made it seem so harsh against the muted ears. Perhaps the beginning of the dramatic events that were supposedly lined up next. A siren, a red flag, a blow of a whistle as my captor refused to match my eyes while taking the seat opposite to me. The third one still empty and unoccupied. 

I wanted it to be Liza. I wanted to believe it was going to be Liza but of course it won't be. It will be a good sign if it wasn't Liza because then it would mean that they didn't know about my secret knowledge. Needless to say the obvious, this night would have turned out to be more deadly than it already was.

Sometimes I really wonder if I am stupid. Too dumb and foolish to realize the obvious. A disappointment. Probably the reason why I may never make it out of here. How could I not realize that the third seat would be for the third person living in this house. A living, breathing, annoying and callous human being with a twisted sense of humour. I wonder if he is worse or could be worse than my captor himself.

Ivan sat in the odd chair as if he does it every time while Dimitri pretended to be accustomed to the same. His smile unwavering as he clapped his hands like a joyous little kid having dinner with his beloved family and at the same time be the responsible host as he removed the decorative cloches and revealed the array of dishes he had prepared with the littlest bit of help from me. 

Squash soup, turkey with stuffing, velvety mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, glazed carrots, cranberry sauce, cast iron skillet cornbread and a pumpkin pie.

A perfect dinner, a perfect cosmetic setting, a perfect thanksgiving night. Two perfectly splendid men and two ungrateful women. One in front and one underground. Living a life of freedom. Immunity from the harsh world outside. An isolation for the free spirited. A safe haven they created for the women they...care about? Love?

I couldn't afford to have a panic attack in front of them. Not a single sign of weakness should be at display for their sick pleasure of getting a reaction. Any reaction at all because the fact that they affect me in any sort or form makes them feel like winners. 

Deep breaths. Deep. Breaths.

I opened my eyes and picked up the fork. A plate of delicacies placed in front of me as the perfect prop to pretend the idealism they want and forced to be true. A perfect little family.

A hand swifty swatted me off as soon as I thought I had composed myself. The fork dropped from my hand and on the rug with a soft thud. Hitting the right note, a perfect sync with my heart. Frozen, I blinked a couple of times and didn't dare move my gaze to his face as he chided me for not saying grace or being thankful before I got to have the thanksgiving dinner.

He placed each of his hands on both side of the round table with palms faced upwards. A gesture to show and tell, an invite to hold his hand for the prayer he was about to say which I obliged to. Dimitri's hand on the other end reached out as well. Palms open, an invitation not rejectable as his eyes scored me sharp. I didn't need to see him to know that. 

Warmth engulfed both my hands as I tried not to inhale a shaky breath. I was overwhelmed beyond the thin red line. The wish to be anywhere but here was immense and I'd rather be anywhere else but right now I was not mine to control. I had to do what was asked and gestured of me. Not because I wanted to take part in whatever this was but because of the reason I did anything around here.