Page 115 of Fire and Silk
Then he stills.
“The truck’s stopped.”
I freeze.
He leans in close. His mouth brushes the shell of my ear.
My hands grip his shirt again.
Outside, boots hit gravel. The doors creak.
Chapter Eighteen – Lira
Back of the Truck, Border
Severo holds the rope steady between his knees while I press both wrists together.
He takes one last drag along the frayed rope and then folds the strands so they overlap again. He loops it once , then twice, tying it as if sealing it tight. But when I twist just slightly, I feel the slack. It holds its shape.
He nods.
I do the same for him. My hands tremble as I wrap the rope behind his back and knot it the way he showed me—tight at first glance, but loose enough for him to slide free in a single pull.
He tests it, the muscles in his forearms flexing. It holds.
We lower ourselves to the floor of the truck. The space is cold against my spine. I tuck my arms behind me, lean sideways against the wall, and draw a long breath through my nose.
Then I shut my eyes.
Outside, the truck rumbles over uneven ground. A turn. A slowdown. Then the engine cuts out.
The silence is immediate.
A door slams shut up front. Footsteps approach, slow and uneven, one heel heavier than the other. Then the metal latches at the back groan, bolts sliding free.
The doors swing open.
Air rushes in damp with soil.
The man climbs up. The truck groans beneath him. His boots scrape the floor as he steps inside.
He crouches. I feel his hand on my shoulder. He taps, sharp. “Hey.”
I stay limp.
A second passes.
The duct tape peels from my mouth in one brutal pull. It sears the skin under my cheek and rips at my hair, but I don’t make a sound. My jaw throbs.
Another moment of stillness.
He shifts away from me and moves toward Severo. I hear him grunt under his breath. “What the hell happened to her?”
There’s a muffled response from Severo, low and strained. Just enough to sound real.
Another sharp rip.
I hear Severo suck in air.
