Chapter 2

“What?” I ask them. “Aren’t you going to do your job? You know, maybe take some pictures of the symbols on the floor or pick up the pieces of glass that has my blood all over it?”

Apparently I’m speaking a foreign language because not one of the officers respond to me directly.

“She’s worse off than she thought,” one of them mumbles. “Do we need to sedate her?”
I can feel Thunk vibrating in my pocket. Whoa. Yeah, he’s pissed and getting me riled up, too. Wonder what happens when he’s happy.

Yeah, I know from what I’ve read that these officers keep the peace but I’m not sure what kind of a threat I am. William kept me prisoner. Shouldn’t they be after him? I try to keep my voice low, but I can’t help but share my frustration with these police officers. “Sedate me? I’ve been kept prisoner by my now former fiancé and I have no idea where I am right now. I’d appreciate it if you told me what the hell was going on.”

The burly officer speaks up, introducing his team. “My name is Officer Michaelsen, the others are Hansen, Jacobs, and Tully. Jacobs and Tully here were kind enough to help us out. They’re local.” Michaelsen stops speaking and an uncomfortable pause passes between us. Local. I wonder what that means. I guess when you want answers sometimes you just have to be patient. That seems to be my whole problem: I didn’t ask William enough questions.

“Do you know where you are, Serafina?” Hansen asks me, her voice calming and gentle.

“Why are you calling me that? My name is Sophie Miller…” Then it dawns on me. Maybe my name is Serafina and William just lied to me the whole time we were together. Wouldn’t that just suck. I’m running out of options here, especially if they think I’m going crazy. “No, I guess I don’t know where I am. Are we near lots of people? A city?”

Jacobs puts an arm around my shoulder, comforting me. “Nowhere near any reputable city, girl. You’re outside Gary, Indiana.”

My face turns white; the name doesn’t even sound remotely familiar. Where did I live with William? What was the address?

“We’ve come to take you to Milwaukee. Looks like you have a guardian angel watching out for you,” Michaelsen cracks, trying to appeal to my non-existent sense of humor.

“Yeah, some angel.” I’m done asking questions for the time being because the more I ask? The less I know. “I’ll wear your handcuffs but please, don’t sedate me.” I remember what that was like, from The Stay.

“Agreed,” Michaelsen says as he cuffs me tight. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.” This ought to be good. What did I have that anyone else needed?