Lahat ng Kabanata ng Sold to the Mafia : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 35

The doctor's hands move with practiced precision as he peels away the last strips of gauze that was wrapped tight around the Ice King's side. The fabric gives way to reveal a pale and narrow scar just beneath his ribs where the bullet had grazed. It was shallow but apparently sharp enough to now leave that faint but lasting mark. The Ice King is sittong on the couch, half-shirted and still. His muscles are drawn tight beneath his skin, like he's holding something in he doesn't want to show.I'm on the bed, cross-legged and watching. Not because I want to, or because I'm drawn to him or care but because there's nothing else to do. This room is the same as it's been for the past few days... silent and sterile.Time has gone strange on me. It's now soft around the edges of my mind. It's been weeks. Two, three months, maybe. I stopped keeping track when he moved and forced me to stay here. The tissue roll I used to mark the days is still in the other room with all my scratched-out lines

The room feels hollow now and the air feels thick with everything that had happened before reality knocked it away.The Ice King had left mintues ago but his absence still echoes in the silence he left behind. I had retreated to the edge of the bed, far from the couch and far from where things had nearly unraveled. Still, my body tingles where his skin had pressed against mine. The gel tube still lies forgotten on the side table, it's probably cold and sterile compared to the fire burning beneath my skin.I close my eyes as I try to gather the scattered pieces of myself. The man--- the Ice King--- who held me like that, with such raw, desperate need, is the same man who keeps me prisoner in this Godforsaken place.And somehow, in that contradiction, I find myself both terrified and inexplicably drawn deeper into his dysfunctional orbit.What does that make me?A victim? A willing participant? Or something else entirely?I don't have the answer yet but one thing's for sure: nothing

I don't touch the folder right away. I just stare at it. At the crisp corners and the invisible weight, it carries. This isn't some idle test. He wouldn't risk giving me even fabricated data unless it meant something. I am not sure what he's up to but I play it cool. He wants fire, but tonight I'll give him frost."What's in it?" I ask.The Ice King's gaze sharpens, but he doesn't answer."If you expect me to sift through someone else's lies, I need to know what matters to you. What am I looking for?""Deviations," he says after a pause. "Connections that shouldn't exist. Patterns that don't align."The Ice King walks back toward the desk. Bracing both hands on it, he leans over the leather blotter like it might anchor him."And if there aren't any?" I press."Then keep looking until there are."My mouth curves upward, but there is no real amusement in it. "You want answers but you never admit what questions you're really asking."The man straightens slowly. "And yet you keep trying t