Chapter 7

I hadn't seen Alejandro in three days. Dolores would set meals on the balcony for me and come for the trays later. I was dying to ask about Alejandro, but I was too prideful to do so. I had spent my days pacing, twisting my fingers, wondering how life was back in LA right now.

How was everyone doing without me there? Was my stepfather worried? Was he looking for me? How was George? Iris, Chloe, Keisha, and Martha were the people I was the most worried about, the people I knew really did love me and would be worried sick about me.

I didn't know whether my abduction was a secret or a known fact at this point. I desperately wished I could hug them, let Martha braid my hair as she used to when I was little, and play in the doll house for hours with Iris.

I sat by the window, reminiscing about the life I should have been living. I would have been in New York by now, starting a new chapter, starting the career I had always wanted. Solitude had forced me to take a look in the mirror and re-evaluate the life I might lead if I ever got out of this house alive.

I also had a lot of time to reflect about my relationship with George. The arguments I had been trying to convince myself of—that marrying him was the best decision and the path of least resistance—were starting to waver. I was starting to realize how precious life was, and with that came doubts about spending any more of my life with a man I felt a passive level of affection for.

I wondered if Alejandro had asked Richard for ransom. I still couldn't comprehend what the motive was otherwise. Maybe Alejandro was going bankrupt? Maybe this wasn't even his property? Who knew.

I wondered if I would ever get to go home again. Sheer fear took over me at the idea of never being able to go back to my life again, to the job I had worked so hard to get, to the life I couldn't wait to start, independent, away from my stepfather for good. When those thoughts crossed my mind, I finally reached my breaking point. The flood gates opened, and a scream rose up from within me that probably alerted everyone in the house. But no one seemed to care.

When I finally saw Dolores later that day, she never mentioned anything, just silently cleaned. But then again, for however sweet and warm Dolores was, for as much as she reminded me of Martha, she was still part of a team that obeyed Alejandro to the letter, including in the crime of taking my freedom away.

Eventually, on day four, as Dolores was bringing me afternoon tea, I tried to inquire further in a more diplomatic fashion.

"I can't thank you enough for taking such good care of me, Dolores."

"Es un placer, se?orita."

"How long have you worked for Alejandro?"

"For at least eight years," she said, "but I have known him since he was a wild little boy, running around, playing futbol around our neighborhood. When he made himself, he took me and my family in, paid for my son's college degree. I insisted on staying here with him, working for him and his mother, in the only thing I love to do—cook."

"Do you also bring him tea every afternoon?"

"I do," she said, "but not lately. He travels to California a lot for his business. He hasn't been here for three days, if that is what you are asking," said Dolores with a smile. I smiled back.

Dolores seemed to be creating some sort of story in her mind about why I was asking. I, on the other hand, knew that my only interest was wanting to investigate what was next for me.

"He should be back this evening," said Dolores, patting my shoulder before she left me alone with my thoughts.

It was important that I make an effort to be nice to Alejandro going forward. I needed to earn his trust. It was the only way I would be able to perhaps make him tell me what this really was all about, as I still couldn't understand why he had abducted me in the first place, and that drove me mad. He seemed to have it all. He had some sort of business in California and was successful enough to own a mansion.

Even if all of it was through illegal means, why continue? This couldn't just be about money. Also, I couldn't understand why Richard hadn't paid anything yet—at least as far as I knew. I assumed he would pay to avoid any gossip, but now I didn't know what to believe. Had I been in captivity too long? What was a "normal" time to wait before kidnappers started cutting limbs, raping, beating? No, no, I couldn't think of that. I couldn't let fear take possession of my sanity any further.