22.
I wake up breathless and sweaty, my eyes wandering aimlessly until they land on Klaus standing in front of me with a coffee mug. He narrows his eyes, looking at me attentively. I have my hands resting on the floor, on my "bed" on the ground, still unsure if I'm asleep or awake.
"Why are you yelling at me?" The question assures me that I'm awake, dispelling any doubt I had. I feel sweat trickling down my face, sticking my clothes in some places, making me wish I could take a shower immediately and get rid of the remnants of that nightmare/memory that Klaus had unlocked with impressive ease. It was becoming increasingly interesting to live with Klaus and his knack for bringing traumas to the surface.
"I wasn't yelling at you," I try to disguise, leaning against the wall.
Klaus approaches me, crouching in front of me, making a point to look into my eyes. I turn my head to the side, but this only makes him grab my chin and force me to look at him.
"We both know you were," he murmurs, his eyes lingering on my mouth. "And it's good to know that I torment you even in your dreams."
I don't dare to breathe, let alone move. I wait for him to release my chin and stand up, expecting him to do so, but instead, he reaches into the pocket of his pants and tosses something into my lap.
I furrow my brow when I realize it's my cellphone. He had my cellphone all this time!
Raising my head, I look at him with a puzzled expression, not sure what he meant by that, what part of his plan I was now a part of. Klaus was starting to confuse me.
"This is my cellphone," I murmur, looking at the device, which was still locked with one of my favorite photos next to my then-husband. At least we looked happy.
"Is it really? I didn't notice," he shrugs, crouching in front of me again. "But I'm not giving it back to you."
"Then why did you give it to me?" I ask, raising my gaze to meet his eyes.
"You're going to make a call," he says, taking a sip of the coffee in his mug, "and you're going to let your parents know you're coming to visit them."
I feel my head spin at those words. Was he about to let me go? Was that it? Everything seemed to indicate so, and it even made a smile start to form on my face, reigniting hope within me.
"Are you going to let me leave?" I ask hopefully, already imagining myself forgetting everything that happened there deep in my mind and returning to my life as if nothing had ever happened.
Klaus tilts his head to the side, not showing any reaction, which worried me. "We're going to visit them."
"We?" I repeat, still not understanding what he was planning or trying to make me understand. "What do you mean?"
He sighs. "You're going to announce that you're getting married." I shake my head in confusion, needing to close my eyes for a moment with my hands on my head.
"But yesterday you said..."
"I know exactly what I said yesterday, Hailey, and I could say much worse," he interrupts me, leaving no doubt about what he wanted. "You're going to call them, and without beating around the bush, you're going to tell them you're coming to visit."
My head continues to spin, making me feel nauseated, just by remembering my mother's reaction years ago. I could expect an even worse reaction this time, and I didn't have the mental strength to deal with it, especially since Klaus had done me the favor of destroying even that.
I breathe through my slightly parted lips, feeling a sudden chill, even though I was aware that it wasn't cold, but rather something psychological.
Klaus takes the device again, this time handing it to me. Hesitant, I take it, turning on the screen again, momentarily forgetting what the password was, only remembering seconds later that it was the date of my wedding.
In the phone book, I look up my parents' house number and call it immediately. The phone rings three times before being answered by Luzia.
"Hello," her firm voice echoes in my ear, bringing back nostalgia.
"Hi, Luzia. It's me, Hailey."
Brief silence. I look at Klaus, who still had his eyes on me.
"Hailey?! Girl, where have you been? Everyone's worried about you," I hear another voice near Luzia. "It's her, ma'am," the phone changes hands, and at that moment, my mother's voice comes through, but not in a worried tone, perhaps in anger or some other similar feeling.
"Where are you?"
"Hi, Mom."
"Do you have any idea of what happened and what's happening?!" It wasn't exactly what I expected to hear or hoped to hear, that my parents were genuinely concerned about me. They were only concerned with finding out who killed the governor's son and why I didn't call the police or seek help.
"I'm fine," I force my voice to sound as convincing as possible.
"It's good that you are, and you should show up to give explanations," her voice sounds even more authoritative and severe.
"I will," I finally say, holding my breath. Before I could say anything else, she hangs up, leaving me like an idiot with the phone pressed to my ear. "I love you too, Mom," I say, forcing a smile, pretending to hang up, then handing the phone back to Klaus, who doesn't hesitate to take it. He stares at me for a few more seconds, as if trying to read my thoughts.
"I think that's it for now," he says, finally getting up, walking out of the house. "Breakfast is on the table."
For a few more minutes, I remain in the same place, trying to absorb everything that was happening. I felt like I was asleep and my brain was playing tricks on me. However, it didn't seem like I was asleep; I was wide awake, and Klaus had changed his mind abruptly.
I didn't know if that surprised me more or the fact that my parents weren't concerned at all, unlike the house staff. They wanted explanations, not just them, but Kai's parents as well, and I believe none of them would like to hear what I had to say, let alone believe me. Finally, when I get up and go to the kitchen, I find the table loaded with cake, bread, and other foods that just looking at them made my stomach painfully rumble. I don't hesitate for another second to start eating, a bit of everything, shoving food into my mouth, while tears blurred my vision when I realized what I had become.
With the backs of my hands pressed against my mouth, I take a few steps back, crying, needing to run to the service area to vomit what I had swallowed, when clearly my stomach rejects so much food. I continued to cry while vomiting, as if the vomit was caused by the tears and vice versa. All I knew was that I felt like a perfect idiot for crying while eating.