“I need to step out for a moment,” Nicolette said. She knew what she had done, and felt as though she would vomit any second. Running down the hall to the public restroom, hovering over the toilet, Nicolette threw up for the first time. As a child, she was never sick. The main reason was that she was never allowed to attend public school or spend time with others. Arison made her a recluse, and she knew no other life other than the one he offered her. It was his way of keeping what was his all to himself. Slowly she realized that she was property, not loved.

Walking in from the small coffee shop downstairs, Gypsy was relieved to see her cousin sitting there with Grace. Her stomach was in knots since the fever spiked, but the doctors assured her it wasn’t the virus that swept the world. It was worse because none had a clue of what ravaged this little girl’s bloodstream. For the first time since the kidnapping, she was scared. Grace was learning to walk and talk, but she made sure nothing was accessible. Her home babyproofed by a professional. There was no reason for her to be sick.

“NICOLETTE GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW,” Arison screamed.

“Caio, Arison. Do not follow me,” she said. As Nicolette walked out, she noticed a faint smell of smoke in the air. The emergency workers still swarmed the Vatican, as the crowd cheered when they brought out the Pope. He was alive because of her, but if Thanatos had not shown his face, she would have allowed the man to burn inside the walls. In her mind, the Catholic church was the unholiest of places.