The faint clink of metal echoed through the small kitchen as Annelise carefully slipped it into the back corner of the cupboard, behind a row of spice jars she hadn't touched in weeks. Her fingers trembled....whether from nerves or the chill in the air, she wasn't sure. She was just about to close the cupboard door when the sudden creak of the kitchen door made her jump.
Matteo stood there.
His eyes locked on her, flicking down to the cupboard, where the door still sat slightly ajar.
"What are you hiding?" he asked, voice low, yet laced with suspicion.
Annelise blinked, closing the cupboard with a calmness she didn't feel. "Nothing. Just organizing."
But Matteo wasn't one to take words at face value. He stepped closer, towering over her now. "Show me your hands."
She shook her head, a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Matteo, please...."
His palm struck her cheek before she could finish. The force of it sent her stumbling, falling to the cold tile floor. Pain bloomed on her skin, but her pride hurt more. As she looked up at him, dazed, her hand instinctively opened, revealing her empty palm.
He stared.
There was nothing there.
His jaw tightened, but satisfaction flickered across his expression. Without another word, he turned and left, leaving the door swinging .
Later that day, Noemie lay on her stomach, her body still and tense as the physiotherapist worked carefully over her lower back. The cool hands of the older woman brought some relief, coaxing a small exhale from Noemie's lips.
Eliane sat in the corner, silent, her legs tucked under her like a child being punished.
"You girls must've done something fierce to end up in a place like this," the physiotherapist said casually, her voice seasoned with age and weariness, not judgment.
Noemie didn't reply, but Annelise glanced at her, then looked at the woman. Her voice was quiet. "We crossed a line. By mistake. But now we've fallen into an abyss. And there's no climbing out."
The woman chuckled, not cruelly. More like someone who knew too well. "Karma doesn't let anyone leave easy."
When she finished her session, she patted Noemie's shoulder and left without another word.
The new quarters were.... surprisingly comfortable. Not luxurious, but enough to remind the women that they were still human. Each had her own room, with pale curtains, a modest bed, and a small window that offered a sliver of sky.
Annelise was settling in, folding clothes that didn't belong to her into drawers she didn't ask for, when the soft chime of the doorbell startled her.
She opened the door.
Tomasz.
He looked like a man out of place...clean, confident, and absurdly calm. Dressed in casual clothes, he held two boxes. One, a wooden crate filled with fruits. The other, smaller, plain, closed.
Annelise's brow furrowed. "Why the hell are you here?"
He didn't flinch. "How could I leave an entangled butterfly without trying to free her?"
She scoffed. "This isn't a poem. If we get caught, I won't just be punished. I'll be thrown into the depths of hell."
Tomasz stepped inside, brushing past her. He walked to the desk and set down the boxes. "Relax. Everyone in this building works for the office. No one will question who I'm visiting."
Annelise closed the door slowly, leaning her back against it. She eyed the boxes. "What's in the small one?"
"Something better than fruit."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't flirt with me right now, Tomasz."
But he just smiled. "You need someone who hasn't given up on you. Even if you already have."
For a moment, silence. Then she turned away, gripping the back of a chair. "You shouldn't have come."
"But I did."
Tomasz left after a few minutes of casual talk—his way of making it seem like a work visit, a harmless social call. He walked toward the underground parking, humming softly under his breath.
As he neared his car, headlights from the opposite lane illuminated a familiar figure.
Matteo.
He stepped out of his black sedan and narrowed his eyes. "Tomasz?"
Tomasz adjusted his expression into one of surprise. "Matteo. I thought you were already in."
"Why are you parking now? Weren't you supposed to be at the office by noon?"
Tomasz shrugged. "Got a call about a delivery hiccup at the residential block. Some paperwork mess. I went to sort it out personally."
Matteo studied him for a moment. Then nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's go. We have a meeting in ten."
As the two men walked side by side toward the elevator, Tomasz's mind raced. Every step was a gamble now, every word measured. The butterfly he'd come to free was still trapped...and now he might be fluttering too close to the flame.
Inside her room, Annelise opened the second box. Inside was a small vial, a folded paper with scribbled instructions, and a burner phone.
Her hands trembled again, but not from fear this time.
Hope was a dangerous thing.
And she had just enough to be scared of it.