Alina
Gerald's cruelty only continues to ratchet up over the next couple of weeks. I'm constantly on guard, hovering over Yara at all times, hesitant to let her out of my sight even for a moment.
He moves me from our master bedroom into another area, some kind of makeshift dungeon-looking room with a rickety bed and thin blankets, although occasionally he allows me to sleep in Yara's room.
As the sun rises one morning, a pale sliver of light creeps along the floor of the dingy basement, casting ugly shadows on the filthy walls.
It's a far departure from the palatial, immaculate parts of the mansion that Gerald lured me to.
I force myself to open my swollen eyes, every muscle in my body screaming in protest.
Sheer willpower is the only thing that keeps me from curling back into the fetal position and succumbing to the darkness threatening to consume me.
Despite the pain, despite the humiliation, I have to survive this.
For Yara.
Using the wall for support, I stumble to my feet, blinking away the bleariness in my eyes.
Slowly, I begin to search the room, careful not to make any noise that would alert Gerald's men to my escape attempt.
The door is locked, but the single window high up on the wall, covered in grime and cobwebs, offers a glimmer of hope.
Rushing over, I drag a rickety chair over to the window, and after several failed attempts, manage to wedge it against the wall.
The sunlight streaming through the cloudy glass is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, even as it illuminates the grime coating the pane.
My aching muscles scream in protest, but I ignore them, knowing that every second counts.
With a deep breath, I wrench at the latch, wincing as it squeaks in protest.
Heart pounding, I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Gerald's men barging through the door. But for now, I am alone.
Wedging my slender frame through the narrow opening, I breathe a sigh of relief as my feet touch the ground outside.
My exhilaration is short-lived as I realize I'm on the second floor, surrounded by tall fences topped with barbed wire.
A familiar dread begins to creep up my spine.
What am I even thinking? I would jump off the roof and then what?
Even if I did manage to escape, where would I run to? Even if I did manage to contact the authorities, what would I say?
Gerald could simply claim that Yara was his biological child, and in the time it took to verify that this wasn't true, goodness knows what fate may befall her at his hands.
I shudder at the thought of leaving Yara alone with him. With his men.
I've seen the way they look at her, and it's not so different from the way they look at me.
To escape now would be selfish. Too risky.
But it also might be the only way I can get help for us before it's too late.
In the distance, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps and voices.
Panicking, I scan my surroundings for any means of escape. My gaze falls on a rickety drainpipe, my only chance.
Ignoring my protesting body, I begin to climb.