On the drive back, Ivy’s emotions were a mess. Blood seeped from where the ropes had bitten into her wrists and ankles, staining her clothes, the car seat, even the floor. She didn’t seem to notice, lost in some private nightmare.
Victor glanced at her, his face softening with pity.
At the next intersection, he pulled over and unbuckled, intending to grab some supplies. But Ivy clutched his wrist, her nails digging in, sharp enough to sting. “Victor, where are you going? Please don’t leave me alone—I’m scared!”
He pulled her into his arms, soothing her. “I’m not going anywhere. Just wanted to get some antiseptic for your wounds.”
She shook her head frantically. “No, I can’t. You left last time, and that’s when Simon took me. I’m terrified it’ll happen again.”
Victor froze, guilt flick
