Not Ever

(Camilla’s POV) The first thing I see when I wake up is Cindy. She's sitting in a chair across from me; her face bright-lit by the flickering light of a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. My wrists are bound against the chair, my legs spread wide, and my heart pounds against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Cindy," I croak, my voice rough from disuse. "Please, let me go. It's not too late. I can still surrender. I can pay for everything." Cindy laughs, a cold, mirthless sound that chills me to the bone. "Surrender? You think they'll believe you now? You're too late, Camilla. You're finished." Please," I beg once again, my voice quivering. "I'm not asking for myself. I'm asking for them. For my family. For the people who love me. Please, Cindy, don't do this." "Love?" Cindy scoffs. "They'll be better off without you. They'll be free. You're just a burden, Camilla. A liability. No, I whisper, my voice barely perceptible. "I'm not a burden. I'm not a liability. I'm a mother. I'm a wife. I