Page 47 of Forbidden Knots

We all hold secrets; we all hold something close that can make us disappear. And I hold him, and he holds me, and our little miracle will bring us closer. I know it.

"Fuck," I said, the anger boiling inside me.

"Fuck!" I shouted.

Christian took a bottle in his hand and stood up. "I am going to burn that boat."

Inside me, anger exploded, and my fist hit his face. "You wouldn't dare."

He fell to the floor, holding his hand over his nose. "She was pregnant with him," he cried desperately. I never imagined I would ever see him like this.

I held my hand out to him, and he took it, our palms clapping together as he got up, wiping his blood with his shirt.

"I will go and check that boat," I said. "You stay here."

TWENTY SIX

Storm

With each step we took back, I felt weaker. With each step we took, I grew more afraid. By now, I was so hungry and exhausted that I couldn't tell if this woman with the scarred face was real or a ghost, a ghost from my past as she claimed to be. My mind was betraying me, and I couldn't think clearly. I knew something far worse than I could imagine was happening here, and I was caught in the middle of it.

On my mind was Sophie—her pink hat, her orange crocs with daisies, and her smile, which I now realized was just like Tristan's. I knew she was gone, but I missed her so much that it hurt, even though I had fallen in love with Tristan. Every time I touched a bruise on my body, I remembered the place where Sophie had whipped me. She wanted to see me hurt; she wanted me to suffer as she did. It was as if she knew what was coming like she had foreseen this nightmare.

This town, the moon, the stars, and its people—none of it felt real anymore. Everyone lived lives where they pleased others, but behind hidden doors, there were dark secrets. No one truly knew anyone, yet everyone knew everyone.

I was sick; I wanted to puke. I stopped for a second, my vision blurry, holding my hand against the wall, struggling to breathe.

"Help me!" I asked the woman for help.

She stood in front of me, her head tilting, her face serious and pale. She scanned me, deciding whether to let me die or keep me as a doll to play with.

"Help me!" I shouted again, trying to shake her from her trance and make her help me.

She shook her head, jumping away from me.

"No, no, no, I don't want to play."

I turned around, my body crawling back to the exit. Dirt was under my nails; my body was weak and exhausted. I needed air, I needed some normalcy in my broken life, but this torture seemed never-ending. It felt like we had walked miles away, and I could see the exit but couldn't reach it.

My eyes were closing, and I was gasping for air, but to my surprise, the woman came to me again, taking my hand and dragging me to the exit. I lay down in the dry grass, moonlight hitting my skin. A soft wind blew, bringing a familiar smell closer to me.

"You can rest at my place," she whispered, gently touching my hair. "They don't mind anyway," she said.

My heart raced, and I wanted to scream. I had accepted my end, but the air softly filled my lungs again, as if my whole body wanted me to fight—for the first time in my life. So, I did. I slowly got up, my legs trembling.

"Are you real?" I asked her, my mind playing tricks on me.

"Of course, silly," she said, her palm resting on my cheek.

"Then tell me who you are," I whispered, placing my palm on her cold hand.

"I don't remember," she said, her eyes dropping to the ground.

"There was Rose, and then there was me, but then I was behind Rose, and then she was behind me."

"Who is Rose?" I asked, desperation in my voice. "Tell me, please. Who the fuck is Rose?"

Her expression shifted from confusion to a chilling smile, her dirty teeth showing. "Marina is Rose, and Rose is Marina."

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