43. Trinity

The first thing I noticed was the smell-damp concrete, mold, and something metallic I couldn't quite place. Blood, maybe. The air was thick and suffocating, like it hadn't been disturbed in years. I was shivering-not because of the cold, but because of what I had just survived.

My wrists ached from the rough zip ties cutting into my skin, and the blindfold they'd used was still half-hanging around my neck. I sat on the cold, unforgiving floor of what looked like an abandoned basement, lit only by a flickering bulb swinging above me like a slow, ticking clock.

I wanted to scream for help. I wanted to run. But I couldn't do either.

My belly-my baby-was the only thing keeping me grounded. *Don't panic. You need to stay calm. For the baby.

I heard voices upstairs. Muffled. Angry. Barked commands. Footsteps. One set. Then two. Then silence.

Then the door creaked open.

A man entered, his shadow cast long and crooked across the floor. He wasn't the one from earlier-the one who shoved me into