He did not release her wrist for a single moment. However that was not as scary as the uncertainty of what he would be capable of doing now that he knew that she knew absolutely everything. Now that she knew the truth about him. Every now and then she tried as hard as her weak arms allowed her to free herself from his strong grasp but it was useless. Édmond was totally consumed by rage and that was physically reflected on his heightened strength.
'Where are you taking me?', she looked at him imploringly.
'Please, Édmond, if you'd let me go…'.
A withering glare on his part stopped her from begging. 'Cease the pleas, they do not suit you, and keep following me. Do you understand?'.
She nodded. Her hands were trembling uncontrollably. She looked at her wrist and saw the purple bruise that was forming where his forceful grip had pressed her tender skin. She sighed and obeyed, before he did anything harsher than slightly bruising her wrist.
If only she could get out of there and go some place safe… If only she could get to that place by snapping her fingers… but those were only childish illusions, hopeless and desperate wishes. Her fear increased by seconds, for she did not imagine what would become of her. So far, after everything that had happened to her, she noticed she did not really care. She only had herself and an uncertain future. A tear rolled down her pale cheek. It was useless… Would that path lead her to her eternal ending? All of a sudden she started to reflect on the idea that maybe death would provide her with more peace than life had done. Life had only brought times of incessant agony for her, after all…
He seemed to be taking her not too far from his place. She followed his steps when he turned the corner of the street where he lived. Édmond stopped in front of a small wooden door, waiting for her. He took a small key out of his pocket and opened the door.
'After you…', his voice sounded calmer now.
She gave short steps until she found herself in the middle of a room. She watched the place carefully. It looked as if it had been abandoned for years, but it was still in conditions to make it habitable. Taking out the few pieces of furniture and the slight resemblance to a house, she might have assured it was nothing but a quite large junk-room. The only source where light seemed to come through was a tiny window at the back of the room.
'Why have you brought me here?', she was trying to disguise her fear but the tremor in the last word gave her away.
Édmond gave her half a smile. 'Having you here is just a way of making sure that you won't try to escape. I'll bring your things shortly, of course'.
At that and looking away from her tearful eyes, he left after locking the door. Christine came to stand before the closed door and rested the weight of her exhausted body against it. She felt like a little mouse inside a big cage.
'How come you have not been able to find out anything new?', Édmond was looking at them with a special kind of fury in his eyes.
'Mademoiselle was not at home at that moment. We were received by the person who is in charge of her and she did not seem to know anything valuable about this matter', Emma watched him a bit anxiously because of his aggressive attitude towards them.
His gaze turned to another spot of the room and, in a fit of rage; he gave a hard thump on the desk. 'Well, in times like these, when you have not discovered anything new instead of accomplishing your task, I wonder why I've allowed you to cooperate with me. Move heaven and earth to find her, if necessary, or I'll have no choice but to do the job I've entrusted you with all by myself'.
'We'll do anything in our power to help, Édmond…but, meanwhile, we are still keeping Christine with us, aren't we?', Marie smiled greedily.
His disposition became even angrier and he turned sharply towards them. 'I'll make sure of that. And now, get back to work, damn it!'.
Then, he left the residence with determined strides. He was obviously annoyed at the awful news. The slam of the door made the whole building tremble. Afterwards, there was only silence.
Her small apartment was lit by the rays of dusk that filtered through the window. She still had to finish an endless list of simple chores but she was really feeling she needed a little break. Her mind was spinning with lots of thoughts. Who was that man? It seemed like a deed of Fate that they had met twice so far, and she did not quite grasp why he looked so much like that gentleman…The man that made her run away that night… A night which marked the date when she severed all ties with her mother, her home, her brothers… After that night, all she was left with was nothing. Now the only home she knew was that small apartment and her working place. That line of thought soon took her to Erik. In spite of everything, she missed him terrible.
She was so lost in thought that she did not listen the quiet cat-like steps that were climbing the stairs up her apartment.
She was sitting at the foot of the rickety old bed, watching everything around her with uneasiness. She could not get out of there. Besides, she was sure that it would be impossible to abandon that place with Édmond's consent. She was his prisoner now and he would not let her go until he achieved each and every one of his aims. She looked at the ceiling in defeat. Then, her eyes noticed what seemed like a trapdoor. Maybe she could get out through the device but…surely he would be watching her closely and expected a flight of that kind on her part.
She looked around. There was a small ladder on her right, next to an old armchair. Without second thoughts, she took it. To hell with consequences, to hell absolutely everything, were her thoughts as she placed the ladder right under the trapdoor.
Christine climbed every step very carefully not to trip over the long skirt of her dress. When she got to the top, the girl pushed the trapdoor with all her strength, in vain. She tried again and again but it did not open. Frustration seized her and she hit the wooden surface with her naked fists. She moaned in pain and her dry eyes became red and puffy when the agonizing realization that she would never be able to leave the place sank in. She could have cried waterfalls of tears right then. She descended the ladder and sat on the floor in a very unladylike posture. She curled up, seeking the consolation and warmth nobody had given her, rubbing her frozen limbs and crying harder than ever in her life.