Chapter 4

I was locked in Damien's room, with no way to contact the outside world.

So every night, he'd demand me fiercely.

He wouldn't let me use birth control.

Finally, I couldn't hold back and asked him,

"Can you please let me go out? It's so stifling being stuck in your room all day."

"Go out and do what? Test if your homemade communication device works?" he scoffed.

I was indeed using whatever I could find in the room to make communication devices; I had to find a way to contact Captain Miller.

But I made those devices in the bathroom.

"Damien, you pervert, you put cameras in the bathroom!"

He raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying.

The next second, he smashed the device I'd hidden behind a picture frame onto the floor, gripped my throat, and pinned me against the wall.

"I told you not to leave, not to leave, why do you always disobey me?"

I lied:

"It's not a communication device. It's a birthday gift for you."

Anyway, you smashed it, so you can't tell what it is.

The moment I said that, he released me.

I didn't expect him to crouch down and pick up the broken device piece by piece.

"It's a little robot."

I could only force myself to explain.

But he picked it up as if it were a treasure.

He wiped the dust off with his sleeve and tucked it into his chest pocket.

When he suddenly pulled me into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Kira. My fault, I misunderstood you."

His prominent nose brushed against my neck; his emotions shifted so rapidly, I suspected he hadn't taken his medication today.

That night, as he held me close.

I called his name over and over.

I finally earned the right to go out.

He'd been strange these past few days, often sitting alone in the living room, lost in thought.

One night, he burst into my room, gripping my shoulders.

"Kira, I messed up, I'm too late."

His eyes held a flicker of panic as he hugged me and cried.

I didn't know why he was so upset.

He held me tightly, and after a long moment, I realized it was his body's instinct begging for help.

The next day, he was acting as if nothing had happened, kissing the corner of my mouth and wishing me good morning.

I suspected his mental illness was getting worse.

But it didn't matter. I had already contacted Captain Miller. The next time we met, it would be in a police interrogation room.

"Kira, I keep having the same dream lately," he suddenly told me.

"What dream?"

He didn't answer me, just smiled.

Tiny kisses brushed my earlobe, and he whispered,

"Kira, tell me, will we have a baby?"