The next few days progressed slowly, with Nicolas bringing me food every now and then. We never spoke when he came into the room. I didn't know what was happening outside of the walls of this room. From what I had gathered, he was waiting for confirmation of safe travels to Morocco, where I would die.

I could only hope that he would have the decency to leave my body somewhere that my family could arrange for a burial. I hated the idea of death and dying but it was a reality of my life now. I was going to die, and from the hatred that Nicolas had shown, it wouldn't be a quick one.

At least Caroline's death had been quick. It wasn't fair what had happened to her. It was my fault; I never should have gotten close to her. I put her in danger.

The door opened, revealing Nicolas carrying in a plate with a sandwich and banana. We didn't speak as he removed the restraints on one of my arms, allowing me to feed myself.

True to my word, I didn't fight anymore.

There was nothing left to fight for.

I slowly ate the food, not feeling full. I handed the plate back to Nicolas, my stomach aching.

At least it was something to feel.

He turned to leave, but I interrupted him.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'I am sorry.'"

"For what?"

"For using you… I really did feel bad afterwards, but I won't apologize for busting you for what you were doing to those girls," I said, meeting his eyes. "But I truly am sorry for manipulating you."

"Apologies won't save you," he said.

"I know," I said. "But if I'm going to die, I want to do it with a clear conscience."

"Didn't think you were religious," he said, not leaving the room.

"I'm not," I said, "but I don't want, in my last moments, to be thinking about all the wrong I've done."

Nicolas nodded to show that he understood, turning to leave, yet again.

"Wait," I said, grabbing his attention. "I'm going crazy here… can you just stay for a few minutes?"

"Why?"

"I've been restrained to this chair for days and I've had no human contact or conversation," I said, letting out a soft laugh in spite of the circumstances. "I don't want to lose my mind, you know?"

"You did always like to be in control," Nicolas mused, and I swore that I saw a flicker of a smile on his face. "Fine, I'll stay for a few moments."

"Thanks," I said.

Silence enveloped the room.

"You look good," Nicolas said, finally breaking the silence. I laughed at his attempt of small talk.

"I'm sure I do," I said, "What, with bandages on my arms, tattered clothing, and restrained to a chair… I forgot that you suck at small talk."

"Some things never change," he said.

"What did you do with Caroline's…" I said, trailing off, unable to bring myself to say 'body.'

"Why do you want to know?"

"I never met her parents," I said, "but I think they'd like to give their daughter a proper burial."

"We took care of it."

"Good," I said. "Thanks."

"I'm not a complete monster," he said. "I've done some awful things, but I do have some sense of a moral compass."

"It just stops at human trafficking and starts at giving a family their child's body?" I asked, the bitterness I felt towards the situation seeping through every word. "Some moral compass."

I was met with a smack to the face.

"Oh, yeah, just hit me? That solves all your problems, doesn't it, Nic?" I asked, ignoring the pain where his hand had just hit my face.

Smack.

A thought came into my mind. If I was dead before they could get to Morocco, they couldn't use me and would likely be caught.

It wouldn't be the best way to go, but at least I would stop sitting and waiting for my eventual death.

"What, Nic? Mommy didn't hug you enough when you were little? Oh, that's right, she didn't? Because Daddy had too much to drink one night, slapped her around a little more than he usually did?" I taunted him, feeling guilty for bringing that part of his past up.

"Shut up," he growled, smacking me again.

"And then Daddy turned to you, right? Is that what this is about Nic? You hate women because Mommy wasn't strong enough to protect you?" I said.

"Shut up," he said again, quieter.

"Or was it because you couldn't protect your mom? So, you figured, hey, let's just put some into sexual slavery and maybe another kid won't go through what you went through, right?"

"Shut up!" he screamed, lunging and throwing the chair I was seated in, to the ground. I heard a leg of the chair splinter in half as I grunted in pain. I looked up at him, knowing he was almost there.

"Or what Nic? You'll beat me? Beat me like your dad beat your mom? Guess it's true, sons really do become their fathers," I said.

"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed, kicking me sharply in the gut. I gasped in pain. Another kick came.

Then another.

And another.

A second later, I was ripped from the chair and thrown to the ground, my restraints broken.

"Real nice, Nic," I said, struggling to my feet, my legs shaking slightly. "And here I was, thinking you thought I looked good… but then again, maybe bloodied, bruised girls are more your style?"

With a grunt, Nic grabbed me and threw me to the ground. I gasped, black spots blotting my vision. He had my hands back in those damn chains. His presence left mine and then I was lifted into the air.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, trying to calm himself down as he appeared once again in my vision.

"Really?" I asked. "As I recall, you said, what, that you had never opened up to someone you loved this much before, isn't that what you said?"

Punch to the gut.

"Come on, you've got more than that," I said, grunting at the pain.

Slap to the face.

"At least you keep it the same as your dad," I said, "Multiple blows to the head, that's what killed her right?"

His hands were on my throat.

"You bitch," he growled, squeezing.

Tighter.

And tighter.

Gasping for air, I searched for what would make him snap and not stop till it was too late.

"I lied," I choked out. "I never loved you."

The squeezing stopped for a second.

And then I couldn't breath.

The room began to grow dark.

Unable to hold my eyes open anymore, they closed.

I was almost gone.

Almost free.

"What the fuck are you doing?" came a voice from behind me. The squeezing stopped. "Are you stupid? If she's dead, there's no way we are getting out of here."

"I…I-"

"Shut it and go get Pavlov. If she's dead, it's your head on the line," the voice said. I was almost unconscious, but it was a woman's voice.

As I drifted into unconsciousness, I struggled to open my eyes one last time. I saw a blurry figure in front of me. Squinting my eyes, I came to the conclusion that I was about to die.

Because the woman I saw?

It was Caroline.

And then the world went dark.