chapter fourteen

"You have a penchant for making promises you cannot keep, don't you?" Mr. Gonzalez said to Mrs. Hayman, his voice dripping with disdain.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them as they locked eyes, each searching for weakness in the other. Mrs. Hayman remained in disbelief about the recent turn of events.

"I thought you would train her properly this time," Mr. Gonzalez added, breaking the tense quiet.

Mrs. Hayman bristled. "She's only acting out because she doesn't know how to respond. Are you forgetting that Jessica has only had her memory for eight months? Besides, there's nowhere else for my daughter to go. She doesn't even know Manhattan properly. She'll realize that she can only survive by my side."

"You sound so sure about that," Mr. Gonzalez retorted, his expression bitter. "This is precisely what you told me a year ago, and look where that got us."

"That's in the past," Mrs. Hayman countered. "I thought we agreed not to bring up old grievances. Bringing Jessica to a new town was the best decision I ever made. It was the perfect chance to show her only what we wanted her to see and to train her according to your specifications for an ideal woman. She will fetch you a good fortune, don't let that worry you."

Mr. Gonzalez's brow furrowed. "I can see her potential, but what worries me is her rebellious nature. What if it still runs in her blood? What if she remembers everything and realizes she could be safer out there than with her mother?"

His question struck a chord of doubt in Mrs. Hayman. She considered his words but quickly suppressed her uncertainty, reminding herself of how meticulously she had planned for this day. She wouldn't let Jessica ruin it.

"She tried being on her own, and look where that got her," Mrs. Hayman declared. "Jessica can never survive on her own. I am her mother. I am her life!"

With that, Mrs. Hayman stormed away from Mr. Gonzalez, not allowing him time to counter her statement. Her mind raced, preoccupied with thoughts of her daughter and how she would bring her back. Mrs. Hayman realized that if she left the hotel now, Jessica might not find her upon returning.

In that moment, she regretted confining the girl for those eight months, never allowing her to leave the house. Jessica only ventured out when Mrs. Hayman went shopping or to buy groceries. The only place Jessica had properly seen was the mall, where Mrs. Hayman would purchase drugs from the clinical chemist. She had believed that the best way to rid Jessica of her stubbornness and rebellion was to shield her from the outside world. Now, she realized Jessica would never find her way back home. Her daughter didn't even know how to ride the bus or where their apartment was located. She knew nothing of street numbers or the city in general. Living in Manhattan was like navigating a labyrinth for Jessica.

"I have to find her," Mrs. Hayman muttered to herself.

As she exited the luxurious hotel, she caught Mr. Gonzalez's pitying look through the windows. The man doubted her, and she couldn't blame him. She had failed to deliver on her end of the bargain yet again. Mrs. Hayman knew it would be extremely difficult for Mr. Gonzalez to trust her again, let alone justify the investment he had already made.

"Where the hell are you, Jessica?" Mrs. Hayman wondered aloud as she walked down the very street Jessica had fled. She cursed herself for the inexcusable circumstances. Mrs. Hayman had denied Jessica's requests for a phone, only allowing her a TV with restricted channels. Jessica wasn't permitted to watch the news, only specific movies that her mother had carefully selected. Jessica was as helpless as an infant, locked up in the house with no knowledge of the outside world or how it operated, making her extremely vulnerable.

Mrs. Hayman understood this now. She realized that anything could have happened to Jessica because she wouldn't recognize danger even if it stood before her. She had spent those eight months teaching her how to be a good wife and how to be submissive, forgetting that the present world demanded much more than mere submission.

For hours, Mrs. Hayman walked the streets, growing increasingly uneasy as the hour grew late and drunkards began to stumble about. She was about to turn back when she spotted Jessica's abandoned high heels on the side of the road. Her heart nearly stopped. She didn't know what to think or expect. Her imagination ran wild with all the terrible things that might have befallen her daughter. Jessica had always been a free spirit, enjoying running around the house barefoot since childhood, but Mrs. Hayman couldn't shake the ominous feeling in her gut. Something was wrong with her daughter; she could feel it deep within her bones.