Beyond The Walls (NOW ON AMAZON!!!)

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Hadley had stopped counting the days. Like every other day, she woke up on the King-sized bed to the voice of Barret Fisher, telling her how they'd drawn blood from her, that she had everything she needed in the suite and that her baby was okay. Except that this time, the voice wasn't the staticky, dismembered sound from the intercom.

Hadley jolted from the bed and stared at the dark-skinned, silver-haired, blue-eyed man standing at the doorway of her room. Her heart wrestled to break up and out of her throat, and it took a lot to try and stay calm. She slowly slipped off the bed, her belly now full and round. It was the first time she wondered just how long she had been living this nightmare. The baby kicked, likely concerned at her mother's mood. For so long, Hadley had only had her daughter to talk to. It was disconcerting having another person in their space, especially him, the one causing their strife.

"Hello, Hadley," his voice was deceptively kind.

Hadley wasn't buying it. "Are you here to finally kill me?"

He laughed. It was a full belly laugh, loud and happy and genuine. He laughed until tears fell from his eyes. Hadley hated the sound.

She hadn't imagined he would be at arm's length, close enough to kill. Hadn't prepared for it. She balled her fist, frustrated by how hopeless she suddenly felt.

"I have something for you," he said, still smiling wide.

Hadley stayed silent.

He walked away from the doorway and toward the living room. Warily, Hadley followed. On the table was a square of colourful cardboard and meaningless trinkets organised around its edges.

"It's called a 'board game'," he explained.

"A game?" Hadley scoffed.

"Yes," his voice was steady. Patient. Light. "I thought you might want to do something different today."

"Like play a game with you?" she asked, incredulously.

"We can talk while we play," he offered.

"Why don't we just talk?"

"Only if we play," he insisted. "Or I can just leave."

Hadley squeezed her balled fist tighter, her nails biting into her palm. She'd been alone for days! No, weeks! Months? The length of time didn't matter. What mattered was that she was yet to find a way to escape this space and she was going out of her mind in the solitude, the loneliness eating her alive. Even though she loathed him with every part of her being, she desperately grabbed at the chance to have a conversation with another living being. She was starved for companionship, and it was his fault, but she couldn't help engaging.

"I don't know how to play," she said pointing to the game.

"You'll find that the rules for Chutes and Ladders are as simple as can be," he said.

What she wouldn't give to slap that shit-eating grin off his face – the one feature that convinced Hadley he really was Anette's father too. Instead, Hadley sat opposite from him and listened as he laid out the rules of the boardgame. He was right. The game was simple. What he hadn't told her was that it was also fun. At the end of it, as she moved her piece to win the whole game for the second time in a row, they were laughing hysterically.

He left a few minutes after that, and Hadley spent the remainder of the day berating and hating herself for having loved spending those few hours with him. She vowed never to let her guard down like that, ever again.

And yet, when he came back a few days later with a new board game, she played that one too, and loved it.

And she loved every other boardgame he brought over the next five times he returned.