It comes from an unknown number, but it can only be one person.
Me
You know I can’t do that, Kenzi.
Day after day, my wife has been leaving messages for her sister to come home. She has Mark scouring every inch of CCTV footage she can get her hands on, just hoping to catch a glimpse of her sister.
Unknown
It’s too dangerous. I could have seriously hurt her.
That is an excuse.
Me
But you didn’t.
I’d bet money that Kenzi didn’t know about the hidden phrase she had been trained to obey. It isn’t uncommon practice when brainwashing someone to hide a subliminal message deep in their subconscious. We were lucky that Kenzi seemed to be relatively immune to it.
And you won’t.
She doesn’t answer, but I send her another text anyway.
June 24th. I’ll send you a pin for the address. Don’t miss your sister’s big day because you are too scared to face it and too prideful to ask for help.
I throw my phone on the seat of the car and wrap my arms tighter around the woman snuggled up to my chest.
My life.
My love.
The woman who stole my heart and will never give it back.
I watch the wreckage of my childhood fly by out the windows as we drive through St. Petersburg. My mother’s family has been buried here for generations before her father uprooted her to America, and it is where she always wanted to be buried.
I think it will be painful to come back here, even after all the time that has passed, but I realize that the memories are only painful if I let them be. My childhood is paved with blood and pain, my life often hanging on by the tip of a knife, but none of that matters anymore. Because each and every decision has led me to this exact moment and to the woman I love.
Sometimes the most beautiful things are forged from the pain of the past.
And I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
fifty-three
3 MONTHS LATER
I wanted her to be here, but there hasn’t been any sign of her since that fateful night four months ago. Kenzi has all but dropped off the map. Matthias says that there is hope for her since she didn’t seem to respond fully to the built-in command she was been given over the phone.
A phrase word.
A trigger.
Fuck.
I still call her phone every day and leave messages. She has to be listening to them, otherwise her voicemail would be full, so at least I know she hears me. Which is why I am currently waiting for the nondescript beep to sound.
Beep.
“I know you’re listening to these messages, Kenzi.” I sigh into the phone. “Please come home. You’re my sister. You were my sister the moment I stepped into that horrible house after mymother died and you snuck cookies into my room and held me as I cried. You will always be my sister, no matter what they did to you. Growing up, I tried to save you from everything Elias did to me, but I didn’t save you at all. You saved me. Every single day. And it breaks my heart that you aren’t here right now. We talked about this day, remember? Made vision boards and laughed about who would be the lucky one. I miss you. Pleas…”