Chapter 7
That night.
The room was dark.
Richard held me from behind, gently rubbing my stomach.
His breath was light behind my ear.
It was like so many nights before.
I suddenly spoke.
"I want to go to Hope Sanctuary," I said.
"Okay," Richard said.
"I want to pray for a child," I said.
I sighed, my voice soft and a little downcast.
"My mom's been nagging me about it too," I said.
He spoke quietly.
"When?" he asked.
"Tomorrow," I said.
I tried to sound more casual.
"Aren't you busy with that big project lately?" I asked.
"Don't let it get in the way," I added.
The room went quiet for a while.
It was quiet for so long, I started to wonder if he'd caught on.
Then he finally spoke.
"Okay," he said.
I had to leave the capital.
I couldn't stay another moment.
He might figure out what I was up to.
Six years ago.
He made me abort my Autumn so he could have his own Autumn.
And for his Autumn, he kept mine from ever being born for six whole years.
I can't even begin to imagine what else he might do.
I shifted a little in his arms.
Neither of us said another word.
He kept gently rubbing my stomach.
His movements were steady.
The next morning, he thoughtfully helped me pack my bag.
He took his time, carefully putting my ID, phone, and cards in, one by one.
No driver came to pick me up.
Lately, I'd been heading out on my own a lot.
He didn't even bat an eye anymore.
I took a cab.
I headed to the airport.
When the car had left the city, I actually relaxed a little.
I hadn't really slept last night.
And the car was rocking a lot.
After a while, I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up again, the first thing I saw was the ceiling.
The door was locked.
Through the window, I saw iron bars.
Looking out the window, all I could see was a stretch of wild grass and the faint outline of distant mountains.
There was a piece of paper on the bedside table.
It was his handwriting.
The note read, "Julia, don't run."
It continued, "It's quiet here, perfect for you to rest."
I walked around the room.
The walls were padded.
The corners of the table were padded.
There was nothing here that could hurt me.
There were a few people by the door.
They didn't even look at me.
And they didn't answer any of my questions.
Suddenly, I felt like laughing.
What, Richard?
You really think I'd kill myself?
At noon, he pushed the door open and walked in.
He was the same as ever.
I sat there, not moving, not even looking at him.
It wasn't until he reached the center of the living room that I finally spoke.
I asked, "Did you go see your son?"
He turned to look at me.
He stepped closer.
It was like he was about to reach out and touch me, just acting on instinct.
I stepped back a little.
His hand froze in midair.
He didn't move any closer.
Richard said, "I'll send them away.
"I'll ship them overseas, somewhere so far they won't ever come back."
He paused, looking at me.
I kept my head down for a while before finally looking up.
Tears slipped down my face, slow and silent.
I said, "I never wanted to leave you.
"I mean it.
"I wanted to be alone for a few days.
"I'm not trying to leave."
The room stayed quiet for a long time.
Then he finally spoke.
Richard said, "That's exactly what I'm afraid of.
"The more you act like this, the more I can tell you want to leave."
He paused.
Richard said, "If you hated me, I'd actually feel a little better.
"At least then I'd know you wouldn't leave."
I asked, "You're so into Lily. Why don't you divorce me?"
He froze, like he hadn't heard me right.
It was like he couldn't process what I'd said.