“Okay, I understand that.”
“Do you, Nina? Because I feel like if you did understand it, you wouldn’t walk around like a slob, with your dark roots showing.”
“I… I’m sorry for that.”
“Because you couldn’t take care of your hair, now you will give it to me.”
I have a horrible, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “What?”
“Not all of it.” He chuckles, because of course that would be ridiculous. “I want a hundred strands.”
“You… you want a hundred strands of my hair?”
“That’s right.” He taps on the door. “Give me one hundred strands of your hair, and I’ll let you out of the room.”
This is the strangest request I’ve ever heard. He wants to punish me for my dark roots by giving him a hundred strands of my hair? There’s that much nestled in my hairbrush. Does he have some sort of hair fetish? Is that what this is about? “If you look in my brush—”
“No,” he interrupts me. “I want it from your scalp. I want to see the root.”
I stand there, stunned. “Are you serious?”
“Does it sound like I’m joking?” he snaps. His voice then softens. “There are a few envelopes in the dresser drawer. You put the hairs in there and slide them under the door. If you do that, you’ll have learned your lesson and I’ll let you out.”
“Okay,” I agree. I run a hand through my blond hair and two strands come loose in my fingers. “I’ll have it for you in five minutes.”
“I have to go to work now, Nina,” he says irritably. “But when I get home, you should have the strands ready for me.”
“But I can do it fast!” I tug at my hair again and another strand comes free.
“I’ll be home by seven,” he says. “And remember, I want fully intact hair. I have to see the root or it doesn’t count!”
“No! Please!” I grasp at my hair more violently this time—my eyes water but only a few more strands rip loose. “I’ll do it now! Just wait!”
But he’s not going to wait. He’s leaving. His footsteps disappear the way they did earlier.
I’ve learned no amount of screaming or pounding on the door is going to get him to come back. There’s no point in wasting my energy and aggravating my already agonizing headache. I have to focus on getting him what he wants. Then I can get back to my daughter. And I can escape this house forever.
FORTY-ONE
By seven o’clock, I have accomplished the task.
I obtained about twenty strands by running my fingers repeatedly through my hair. After that, I knew I was going to have to pluck the rest out by the root. About eighty times, I grabbed a strand of my hair, braced myself, and pulled. I tried doing a few strands at once, but that was agonizing. Thankfully, my hair is healthy, so most of the strands yanked free with the hair follicle intact. After I had Cecelia, I would have had to pluck myself bald before I got enough usable hair.
So when seven o’clock hits, I am sitting on the cot, clutching an envelope containing a hundred strands of my hair. I can’t wait to hand it over to him and get out of here. And serve him with divorce papers. That sick bastard.
“Nina?”
I look down at my watch. Seven o’clock on the dot. He’s prompt—I’ll give him that.
I jump off the bed and press my head against the door. “I have it,” I say.
“Slide it under.”
I slide the envelope under the gap below the door. I imagine him on the other side. Ripping the envelope open, examining my hair follicles. I don’t care what he does at this point, as long as he lets me out. I’ve done what he wanted me to do.
“Okay?” I say. My throat feels painfully parched. I finished the other two water bottles over the course of the day, saving the last one for the final hour. When I get out of here, I’m going to drink five glasses of water all in a row. And pee in an actual toilet.
“Give me a minute,” he says. “I’m checking.”
I grit my teeth, ignoring the angry growl in my stomach. I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours now and I’m dizzy with hunger. It got to the point where the hair was starting to look tasty.
“Where is Cece?” I choke out.
“She’s in her playpen downstairs,” he says. We created a gated, safe area in the living room where she could play without worrying about her hurting herself. It was Andy’s idea. He’s so thoughtful.