Chapter 7: The Price of Silence

When I was eight, I was playing in the park with Caleb when we ran into some kidnappers.

They targeted Caleb, grabbed him and ran. I chased after them, screaming for help.

In the end, they just grabbed me too. Yeah, I was reckless.

So the two of us were taken to an abandoned apartment building.

No one responded to our cries for help.

But they figured I was just a girl and not worth much, so they didn't watch me closely or tie the ropes tight.

I quickly used a piece of broken glass to cut the ropes.

While the kidnappers went out to get food, I freed Derek too.

But as soon as we reached the stairwell, we were caught.

Derek fell and hurt his leg running down the stairs, but I forced him to keep going.

He told me several times to go first, but I refused.

The kidnappers chased us relentlessly, and we ran across the street.

One of the kidnappers was hit by a car while chasing us.

He was thrown into the air, his body twisted and broken, and landed right in front of me.

I screamed, and though Derek was scared too, he covered my eyes tightly.

"Lily, I'm here."

Since then, I haven't been able to speak.

Derek knew all of this. In a way, he was partly responsible for my trauma.

His parents even said our family was their family's savior for life.

But he stabbed me in the back after everything we’d been through.

I still remember the playground’s rusty swings creaked in the afternoon heat, and the ice cream truck’s jingle faded as the kidnappers dragged us away. The blaring sirens, the police tape cutting through the dusk, and my mom rushing to gather me up in her arms. For weeks afterward, any loud noise sent me shaking. I would wake up at night, heart racing, the memory of that man's broken body frozen behind my eyelids. I stopped singing, stopped talking—my voice just faded out like a tape left running on empty. Sometimes I wonder if Derek remembers how much he owes me, or if it's easier for him to forget.