I eat when they bring me food, to keep me from having that fucking tube in my nose. I shower when they say I must. I get back in my bed like a good little girl. I float away with the drugs. Oh, how I love the drugs.

But, they never leave me alone. There is always someone here, watching me like I’m a lab experiment. Whenever the fog of the drugs lifts, they are here: Dr. Sloan, or her ‘associate’, Agent Reed. He likes to stare at me. I stare back.

The first one to look away is the loser.

Often, it’s me. His glare is unnerving.

In Reed’s eyes I see a familiar determination and a cunning I have never been a match for.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, soft and low.

I feel as though he is telling me I have no choice but to break. Eventually, he’ll get what he wants from me. I taunt him with my silence. Sometimes he smirks at me. And then, Caleb’s specter seems much more pronounced.

When I failed to respond, the fingers of his right hand trailed across the underside of my right breast.

On this particular day, he looks away from me first and returns his attention to the laptop in front of him. He types, and then scrolls through information I can’t see.

I took a sharp breath and leaned away from his touch, forcing my tightly shut eyes into the skin of my upraised arm.

Slowly he reaches for his briefcase on the ground, next to his chair and pulls out a few brown folders. He opens one and makes some notes while furrowing his brow.

His lips caressed the shell of my ear…

I know.

I know Caleb is not here. I’m fucked in the head. Factually, I take stock of the fact Agent Reed is a very good-looking man. Not as handsome as Caleb. Still, he strikes me as equally intense. His pitch black hair seems a little too long for his profession, but he keeps it impeccably groomed. He wears the A-typical, movie G-man outfit: white shirt, black suit, dark-colored tie. He makes it look good though, like he’d be wearing it even if it weren’t a requirement. I wonder what he’d look like without it on—

Caleb has made me into this. He admitted it. I am everything he wanted me to be. And in the end, what did I get in return?

I knew he smiled, though I couldn’t see it. A shiver, so strong my body nearly jerked toward his, ran down my spine.

“You’re mother should be here today,” says Agent Reed. His tone is detached, but he keeps glancing at me sidelong. He’s eager for my reaction.

My heart stutters, but the jolt is over quickly and once again I simply feel…nothing. She is my mother; I am her daughter. It’s inevitable. Eventually, I will have to see her. I know I’ll have to say the words when I do. I’ll have to tell her I don’t want to go back with her. I’ll have to tell her to forget all about me.

I’ve been grateful for the reprieve, but really – it’s taken her five days to get here? Perhaps telling her to leave me alone will be easier than I thought. My feelings are ambiguous on the subject.

“Tell me about where you’ve been for almost four months. Tell me where you got the gun and the money, and I’ll see to it your mom walks you out of here today.” Reed says. His tone is salacious, as though he wants me to buy what he’s selling.

No thanks. They know about the money – it didn’t take them long. I look at him with confused eyes and an innocent head tilt. Money? He stares at me for a second, then looks down at his folders and writes something mysterious. Agent Reed isn’t buying my bullshit. He isn’t impressed. At least he isn’t a complete fool.

His lips caressed the shell of my ear, “Are you going to answer? Or must I force you again?”

Tick-tock – I can’t hide behind my silence forever. There are some pretty serious charges against me. I guess one does not simply walk into the U.S. from Mexico. I know I should cooperate, tell him the story and get him on my side, but I just can’t do it. If I break my silence, I will never be able to leave this behind. My entire life will forever be overshadowed by the last four months. More than that, I don’t know what the fuck to say! What can I say? For the hundredth time today, I miss, Caleb.

Something drips onto my neck and I realize I’m crying. I wonder how long Agent Reed has been watching me, waiting for me to break down and give in. I feel lost and his flicker of concern suddenly seems like a lifeline. It’s hard not to see Caleb, in his stead.

“Yes,” I stammered, “I’m hungry.”

It is a few long, tense, seconds before he breaks the unending silence. “You may not believe me, but I have your best interests in mind. If you won’t try to help us, help you, things will get out of your control. And quickly.” He pauses. “I need information. If you’re afraid, we can protect you, but you have to give us a sign of good faith. Every day you say nothing, your window of opportunity shrinks.” He stares at me, and I can feel him willing me with his powerful, dark eyes, to give him the answers he is looking for. For a moment, I want to believe he really does want to help me. Could I afford to trust a stranger?

What did he want from me that he couldn’t just take?

My mouth opens, words are crouched on the tip of my tongue. He’ll hurt him if you tell. My mouth slams shut.

Agent Reed looks frustrated. As well he should be, I suppose. He takes another deep breath and delivers me a look that says, ‘Okay, you asked for it.’ He reaches down and grabs one of the brown folders he was looking at earlier. He opens it, stares at it, then at me.

He leaned forward and held the delicious smelling morsel to my lips.

For a moment he looks unsure, but then determined. He removes a sheet from the file and walks toward me, the paper held loosely in one hand. I almost don’t want to see what it is, but I can’t help it. I have to see. My heart lurches! Every fiber of my being is suddenly singing. Tears sting my eyes and a sound mimicking both sorrow and joy bubbles out my mouth before I can keep it in check.

It’s a picture of Caleb! It’s a picture of his beautiful, scolding face. I want it so badly I reach for it, fingers stretching to get closer to his image.

With an almost unabashed relief I opened my mouth, but he snatched it away.

“You know this man?” Agent Reed says, but his tone makes it obvious he knows I do. This is his game. It’s a good one. Through choked sobs, I reach for the photo again. Agent Reed keeps the photo just out of my reach.

“You son of a bitch,” I whisper hoarsely, staring at that one piece of paper. If I blink, would it disappear?

He offered again.

I don’t reach for the photo again, but I can’t keep from looking at it. Caleb is younger in the photo, but not by much. He’s still my Caleb. His blond hair is being blown up in the back and his Caribbean-blue eyes are glorious as they scowl at the camera. His mouth, so full and perfect for kissing is set in an annoyed line across his perfect face. He wears a buttoned up shirt, in white, the obviously billowing wind offers tantalizing glimpses of his sun-kissed throat. It’s my Caleb. I want my Caleb. I glare at Agent Reed. With my rage in every syllable, I break my vow of silence. “Give. Me. That.”