I really should be studying for a medieval and biology test but I don't think my brain can handle anymore information. Will we ever need to know who brought firearms into medieval India? I think not.
Anyway, thank you for all of your reviews! I'm kind of sad to be coming towards the end of this story because I've really, really enjoyed writing it… Just so you all know: the idea was that Kirsten did loose the babies and in my imagination, Jimmy just bashed her up. I made that a bit obscure-sorry!
Kirsten lay on the floor late that evening, tightly hugging the pillow to her stomach to drown out its rumblings. It was like she was falling into a never-ending pit, screaming and screaming as she fell deeper, but no one could hear her. She didn't know how much longer she'd last either; she seemed to be growing weaker and weaker from dehydration. She had to lie down to avoid feeling dizzy and lightheaded now.
Kirsten's eyes flickered over to the barred window, thinking in vain of escape. There was no way she could remove those bars. Jimmy would hear her, and besides, she had the weakest hands ever. How many times had she had to get Sandy to open a jar or bottle for her?
"This is your last chance, Kirsten," Jimmy recited his hourly speech from the other side of the door. "If you don't change your mind now, I won't give you the choice again. I mean it."
Kirsten frowned, squeezing her eyes shut. As tempting as survival and water were, she could not allow herself to live a lie. She did not want to wake up every morning wondering what Sandy and the boys were doing. She'd prefer to die than live without them.
Maybe she deserved to die, Kirsten concluded. Maybe this was her punishment for shutting out Sandy and not believing him entirely about Rebecca. And maybe this was her payback for Carter, putting her family through suffering with her alcoholism, for going back to Charlotte's, for ever trusting Jimmy, for not listening to Sandy when he advised her not to go to work and for loosing the babies. If-no; when she died, at least she wouldn't be able to hurt the people she loved most anymore.
So why did the thought of death terrify her? If this was what she deserved, what she reasoned to be the right thing, why did she want nothing more than to survive?
Each second was like a sand through an hourglass. Time was running out and if Kirsten remembered correctly, she'd only last another day or two without fluid. She'd probably pass out from the dehydration before then. Kirsten realized with a shudder than in twelve hours time, she most likely would have lost consciousness.
It was an unusual predicament to be in, and not one that was frequently thought about: what would you do if you only had a couple of days left to live? More to the point, what could she do? The room was empty save the blanket and pillow. It had to be a form of torture. The only thing left for Kirsten to do was lie in the darkness, wondering how many grains of sand were left in the hourglass.
"I'm sorry, Mr Cohen, it was a false lead."
The words still reverberated in Sandy's head hours after they were spoken, as he lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling.
Sandy had felt more than a glimmer of hope when he'd received a phone call that afternoon.
"We think we've found someone who's working with Mr Cooper," Sandy had been told. "It's being investigated now. Hopefully, if we can get him talking, he can tell us where your wife is."
This lead proved to be a big flop, shaking Sandy's delicate hope and strength.
"I'm sorry Mr Cohen; it was a false lead. We've checked absolutely everything but this man has not been in contact with Mr Cooper since he lost a large sum of money to him two years ago."
He was stupid for allowing himself to get hopeful, Sandy scolded, his eyes transfixed on a spot on the ceiling. He was stupid for getting caught up in the moment, for allowing his excitement to get the better of him and telling the boys. The looks on their faces when he told them it was a false lead broke his heart further.
How much longer would it take? Sandy could see the boys struggling to remain brave and strong throughout it all, and his act that everything would be alright was growing less convincing by the minute.
Charlotte was still hovering around the house, still tip-toeing around in shock and fear. She had well mastered the art of avoiding Seth and Ryan today, scared off by their incessant glares.
Sandy insisted on Charlotte continuing to stay with them to keep an eye on her (just because he felt some pity towards her and believed her story did not mean that she was trusted) and also because she provided him with some entertainment. It was cruel, he knew, but watching Charlotte backing away so comically with a glare from the boys and trying her hardest to avoid them were the only things truly distracting Sandy for several seconds.
His mind returning to Kirsten, Sandy's eyes drifted towards the phone. In a way, he was desperate to get news from the cops but on the other hand, he was worried that it would be another false lead or, even worse, information he didn't want to hear.
"Dad?" came Seth's voice from the other side of the door.
"Seth-come in," Sandy called, grateful for the distraction.
"Is it alright if we talk out here?" Seth suggested.
"Are you okay?" Sandy asked, closing the bedroom door behind him. "You're up pretty late-it's close to two."
Seth shrugged and sat down on the floor. "I'm not really in the right mood for sleeping," Seth explained.
"I don't think any of us are," Sandy admitted, joining Seth on the floor. "How's Ryan dealing with things? Has he said anything to you?"
Seth shook his head. "He seems to be sleeping a lot," Seth stated. "It must be an Atwood coping mechanism."
"Definitely not a Cohen one," Sandy declared.
Seth nodded, staring down at his knees, and Sandy saw the remnants of the boy he'd once been. Seth's eyes were wide and fearful, and he looked like he needed to be taken care of; to be told that everything would be fine.
"Do you think Mom's okay?" Seth asked quietly.
Sandy paused. It was a question he hated but found himself constantly thinking. If Kirsten wasn't dead, Sandy thought with a shudder, what might Jimmy be doing to her? That thought was almost as haunting as the thought of her dead.
"Dad?" Seth asked.
"I don't know," Sandy answered truthfully. "I hope so, but there's no way of us knowing."
"But you guys are so strong-wouldn't you know if she was…not okay?" Seth persisted.
"There's no way of knowing for certain," Sandy replied. Although his gut instinct was that Kirsten was still alive, he also felt as though if she wasn't found soon, she might not be.
"Should we call Hailey?" Seth suggested.
Sandy nodded, the idea just dawning on him.
"You really should try to get some sleep," Sandy told him.
"Probably," Seth agreed, getting up. "You'll come tell me if you hear anything, won't you?"
"Of course," Sandy promised. "Goodnight."
Sandy sighed and got up, heading to the phone in his bedroom. It was probably a convenient time to call Hailey, too, Sandy realized, picking up the phone.
Now he just had to find a way to tell Hailey that her ex had abducted her sister, who he still seemed to be in love with. Dialing the number, Sandy shook his head. This family just kept on getting weirder.
Kirsten awoke groggily the next morning. Her back was stiff from lying on the floor for so long and she couldn't summon the energy to open her eyes. It looked like Jimmy was going to go through with it, Kirsten admitted to herself, trying unsuccessfully to stop a stray tear from falling.
She knew it was crazy, but there was a part of her that truly believed this wouldn't happen. There was a part of her that believed that the Jimmy she thought she knew would reveal himself and take her out of here back to her family. A part of Kirsten thought that she'd be able to hold on for longer-maybe help would even arrive. All of these beliefs had now been abolished as she struggled to string her thoughts together and remain awake.
It was useless. The end was getting closer, and there was nothing Kirsten could do about it. No help was coming.
Sandy sat down to lunch, practically sculling his cup of coffee. It was the only thing keeping him going. As much as he needed sleep, he just couldn't allow himself to. He was worried he'd fall asleep and then miss an important phone call, which was why he was convinced he could hear the phone ringing whenever he shut his eyes.
It was terrible. Sandy was sleep deprived and worried, and expected to hold everything together. He just didn't know if he could do it anymore. One of his sons spent pretty much the whole time sleeping and communicating as little as possible with everyone, while the other spent the entire time keeping tabs on a frightened Charlotte and coming up with theories on how to extract the truth-which Seth was sure she was hiding-from her.
They were out of control, all three of them. Sandy and Seth looked like vampires while Ryan was hardly visible with the amount of light he allowed into the poolhouse.
Sandy rest his head in his arms and closed his eyes. Just for a minute, he told himself. But, sure enough, Sandy's mind was filled with the imaginary sound of the phone ringing as soon as his eyes fluttered shut.
How was he supposed to live like this? Sandy felt like screaming in frustration as he gave in to his paranoia, prizing his eyes open. His heart skipped a beat as the ringing continued several seconds after he'd opened his eyes.
Could it be? Sandy felt fear and hope flood him as he raced for the phone, in a hurry to answer it.
"Hello?" Sandy answered anxiously.
She was slipping in and out of consciousness. If this is dying, it's not as bad as they make it out to be, Kirsten thought groggily.
Footsteps were approaching her…or were they walking away? She couldn't tell the difference.
"I'm joining you, Kirsten," came Jimmy's voice from what sounded like miles away. "But first, I have to finish my job."
My job…Kirsten thought, a warmth rushing over her as she remembered long, lazy days in Berkeley spent painting, with Sandy by her side working on an assignment.
"What do you think?" Kirsten would ask coyly whenever Sandy saw her work.
"Definitely one for the gallery," Sandy would tell her every time, placing a kiss on her head. "You really should make this your job."
Then her job had shifted to being a wife and mother-her favorite jobs of all-before trying to be the perfect daughter on top of that.
"If you believe in life after death, I guess you'll be seeing me and Sandy soon," Jimmy's voice was distorted now, but she could still make out his words. "Any last words for me or him?"
"Do you believe in life after death?" a seventeen-year-old Jimmy had asked her.
Kirsten nodded. "At one point, something must of come from nothing-how could that happen without some 'superior being'?" Kirsten explained innocently. "I just don't agree with the austerity in religion."
"So then we'll always be together," Jimmy told her seriously.
Kirsten shifted uncomfortably under Jimmy's intensity. She wasn't sure if she wanted to always be together with him…
It felt like there wasn't anything around her now. She could feel herself growing blissfully carefree.
"I see," Jimmy continued. "So I can tell him you chose to die over being with me but couldn't even come up with any last words for him."
Kirsten was racked with nerves, excitement and terror. What if he didn't show up? What if he backed out at the last minute? Her self control disappeared and she grabbed the phone.
"Hello?" answered a familiar voice.
"Are you sure?" Kirsten blurted out. "Are you really, really sure? You won't change your mind?"
"Nothing could make me change my mind," Sandy assured her.
A smile spread over Kirsten's face and relief rushed through her.
"Any last words as a free man, then?" Kirsten asked.
"I love you Kirsten Nichol," Sandy told her. "But I think I'm going to love Kirsten Cohen even more."
And with that thought, a smile spread softly on Kirsten's face before she allowed the blissful carefreeness to take over.
"Mr Cohen, we have another lead," came a voice from the other end of the phone. "And this time it looks much more hopeful. We have reason to believe we have located the whereabouts of your wife and Mr James Cooper."
Two chapters left! The next two are relatively short.
Please keep reading and reviewing-and thanks to everyone who has reviewed!