I nod. “And he’s going to tell him where we are.”
Her pupils dilate too, and her face goes as pale as snow. “No …”
“They’re coming.”
She keeps shaking her head. “No, Papa wouldn’t do that.”
“He already did,” I say, grabbing her arms. “I saw him draw up a map. He’s pinpointing our location.”
She sucks in a breath as though there’s no more oxygen in the air. “Yousaw? You went back there?”
I nod.
“But why?”
“Because I knew I couldn’t trust him,” I reply.
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
I clutch her arms. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
Her eyes tear up and fill with a kind of terror that haunts me. “Papa …”
“He is not your papa anymore,” I say with a stern voice. “He never was.”
“But he—”
“You have to let him go.”
“What?” she mutters.
“We have to escape. Now.”
She jerks herself free from my grip. “You want me to leave him there to die?”
“He doesn’t care about you,” I say. “He gave away our location.”
“What if he was forced?” She’s trying to find reasons that don’t exist.
He’s soiled her mind so badly that she can’t believe he would ever harm her.
So I grab her by the arms and make her look at me. “He betrayed you.”
Her eyes grow even more watery. “But I can’t just leave him there. They’ll torture and kill him.”
“You have to,” I reply.
“But what does that make me? If I leave him there, I’m just as terrible as he is,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We have to save him.”
I frown. “No.”
I pack the rest of the bags.
“We should at least try,” she says.
“I already saved his life once,” I bark back. “And it almost cost me my life.”
She merely stares at me with disdain as I finish packing.