Edge of Breaking: On Thin Ice

Chapter 4: The call

Catalina's POV

My sister's voice was a whisper, and whispers always meant danger.

I did not sit down.

Diego was on my bed with my phone in his hand, and his eyes were moving over the screen like he was reading something he could not believe. I stood by the door with my skates still in my hand and my heart pounding in my chest.

"Sit," he said again.

But I did not move.

He looked up at me, and his eyes were cold. "I said sit."

I walked to the chair by the window and sat down. I did not sit on the bed next to him. I would not give him that.

He noticed. His jaw tightened, but he did not say anything. He just looked back at my phone and scrolled through the messages.

"Sebastian," he said, reading the name out loud. "The hockey boy."

I said nothing.

"He texts you at midnight," Diego said. "He tells you to clean your elbow. He asks about your day. He says he will be at the rink at 6 AM." He looked up at me. "What else does he do?"

"Nothing," I said. "He is no one."

"He is not no one," Diego said. "He is someone who is trying to take what is mine."

I clenched my hands in my lap. "I am not yours."

Diego stood up. He put my phone on the bed and walked toward me. I did not move or flinch. I learned a long time ago that flinching made it worse.

He stopped in front of me and looked down at my face.

"You are mine on the ice," he said. "You are mine in practice, at competitions, and you will be mine everywhere else until I say otherwise. Do you understand?"

I did not answer.

He grabbed my wrist. His fingers dug into the same spot he had grabbed before, and the bruise underneath my sleeve throbbed with pain. I bit the inside of my cheek and did not make a sound.

"Answer me," he said.

"I understand," I said.

He held my wrist for a moment longer, like he was waiting for me to change my mind. Then he let go and stepped back.

"Good," he said. He walked to the door and stopped with his hand on the handle. "Stay away from the hockey boy. Focus on skating, and on winning. Everything else is a distraction."

Then he left.

The door closed behind him, and I sat in the chair with my hands in my lap and my heart pounding in my chest.

I waited until I could not hear his footsteps anymore. Then I stood up and locked the door. I leaned my forehead against the cool wood and pressed my hand against my bruised wrist.

My phone was still on the bed.

I picked it up and opened the messages. Sebastian's last text was still there. I will be at the rink tomorrow at 6 AM if you want to skate with someone who will not yell at you.

I wanted to reply and tell him I was sorry for how I spoke to him. I wanted to tell him I would be there again tomorrow.

But I did not.

I put my phone on the nightstand and lay down on my bed. My body was hurting, my mind was tired, and my wrist was aching where Diego had grabbed me.

I closed my eyes.

The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was the circled date on my calendar. Twelve weeks until nationals, until I could save Sofi, and twelve weeks until I could get away from Diego.

I just had to survive until then.

My phone rang at 2 AM.

I woke up gasping, and my hand shot out to grab it from the nightstand. The screen was bright in the dark room, and I had to squint to see the name.

Caller: Sofi.

I picked up the phone and I answered.

"Hello?" My voice was hoarse from sleep.

"Catalina." Her voice was a whisper, and whispers always meant danger. "He is drunk again."

I sat up fast. My heart was already pounding. "Where are you?"

"In my closet," she said. "He does not know I am in here. He thinks I am asleep."

I heard a crash in the background like glass breaking. Then a man's voice followed, loud and slurred, shouting words I could not understand.

Sofi's breath hitched. "He broke the TV," she whispered. "He is throwing things."

"Stay in the closet," I said. "Do not come out, and do not make any noise."

"What if he finds me?" she asked.

"He will not," I said. "I will not let him."

But I did not know how to keep that promise. I was hours away in a different city, and Sofi was alone in a house with a man who had already hit her once.

"Come get me," Sofi whispered. "Please. I cannot stay here anymore."

"Soon," I said. "I promise Sofi, very soon."

"You promised last year too," she said.

I froze, because I had no answer for that.

The crash came again, louder this time, and Sofi gasped. "I have to go," she whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said. "Hold on a little longer."

She hung up.

I sat in the dark with my phone in my hand and my heart in my throat. I wanted to call the police, and at the same time, I wanted to drive to Seattle and drag Sofi out of that house myself. I just wanted to do something.

But I could not.

If I called the police, my father would lie. He always lied. He would say Sofi was clumsy, that she fell down the stairs, and that she was always breaking things.

The worse part was that, they would believe him because he was charming and sober when he needed to be.

If I drove to Seattle, I would miss practice. If I missed practice, Diego would be angry. If Diego was angry, he would hurt me. If I was hurt, I could not compete. And if I could not compete, I could not win nationals. And if I could not win nationals, I could not get Sofi out.

I was totally trapped.

I looked at the calendar on my wall. Twelve weeks until nationals, and twelve weeks until everything changed.

I just had to survive until then.

I lay back down and stared at the ceiling. I did not sleep. I just lay there with my phone in my hand and Sofi's voice in my head.

Come get me.

Soon, I thought. Very soon.

I went to practice the next morning.

Diego was already on the ice when I got there, and his eyes followed me as I walked to the bench. I put on my skates without looking at him. I wrapped my wrist and pretended it was nothing.

He skated to the edge of the rink and stopped in front of me.

"You are late," he said.

"I am not," I argued. "Practice starts at 7 AM. It is 6:55."

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he smiled, but it was not a nice smile.

"We need to work on your attitude," he said. "Get on the ice."

I stepped onto the ice and started my warm-up. My body was tired from lack of sleep, and my wrist ached with every movement, but I did not let it show.

Diego skated next to me. "Your sister called last night," he said.

My blood turned cold.

"What?" I asked.

"I heard you talking," he said. "The walls are thin. She sounded scared."

I said nothing, and just kept skating.

"You should focus on your career," he said. "You cannot save someone who does not want to be saved."

"You do not know anything about my sister," I answered.

"I know she lives in Seattle," he said. "I know she goes to Westbrook High School, and she walks home alone every day at 3:30."

I stopped skating.

Diego stopped next to me and smiled. "I know everything about you, Catalina. I always have."

My hands were shaking, and my heart was pounding. I wanted to shout, hit him in the face, and I wanted to run.

But I did none of those things.

I stood on the ice with my arms at my sides and my face blank, and I waited for him to finish.

"I am going to tell you something," he said. "And I want you to listen carefully."

He grabbed my wrist. The same wrist he had grabbed yesterday. His fingers dug into the bruise, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep me from crying out.

"You are mine," he whispered. "He cannot have you, and I will make sure he knows that. If you tell anyone about this, your sister pays the price."

He pulled out his phone and showed me the screen.

It was a photo of Sofi. She was walking home from school, her head was down, and her backpack was slung over one shoulder. She looked small and alone.

"I know where she lives," Diego said. "I know where she goes to school, and where she works. I know everything about her, and I will use all of it if you make me."

He let go of my wrist and skated away.

I stood on the ice with my hand pressed against my bruise and my heart pounding in my chest. The photo of Sofi was burned into my eyes.

What he said kept ringing in my head. Your sister pays the price.

I thought about Sofi in the closet, whispering into the phone, and begging me to come get her.

I thought about the circled date on my calendar; Twelve weeks.

I just had to survive until then.