own hands. He was beginning to tire of her. It was as if he only wanted her to procreate . . . and if she didn’t fulfill that desire then she was worth nothing.
Samad secluded himself inside his office more and more, which sparked a curiosity in Liberty. What is he hiding? she thought as she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he slept beside her. Her eyes darted to the red numbers on the clock that read 4:53 A.M.
I have to see what is inside of that room.
Liberty slowly pulled the silk comforter back as she slid her body out of bed. She hoped that he did not notice her absence, and she cringed as she cautiously lifted her body weight from the mattress. She knew that she was taking a risk, but she no longer cared. She had been in that house too long without knowing what lay on the other side of that door. Moving in silence, with the stealth of a cat, she tiptoed to the bureau. She pulled open Samad’s drawer and retrieved the set of keys that he kept hidden there. There wasn’t much that Liberty missed, and she had discovered his amateur hiding spot shortly after moving in with Samad. She nervously snapped her head back as she heard Samad’s breathing pattern change. Frozen in paranoia she prayed that he didn’t awaken, and she didn’t move until his snoring resumed. She hurriedly left the room and walked quickly to his office. Time wasn’t on her side and her hands shook terribly as she placed the keys inside the lock. Letting herself in, she closed the door behind her and turned on the lights. She moved quickly, going over to his desk as she opened each drawer and frantically flipped through his papers. Liberty was careful to put things back as she had found them. She didn’t want to leave any trace of her intrusion behind.
Things inside the office seemed normal and she grew frustrated when she couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. He doesn’t keep this room locked for nothing, she told herself. What are you hiding in here? she asked as she stood with her hands on her hips while turning in a full circle as her eyes inspected the space. All she saw was executive furnishing fit for a businessman such as Samad. She had no reason to be suspicious but the nagging feeling in her stomach told her that something was awry. Warning bells had been going off in her head when it came to Samad, and it was time she started listening to them. Just as she was about to give up her search, she noticed a dim light shining beneath the closet door. She rushed over to the closet and quietly opened the doors. The light was coming from the back of the large walk-in. She noticed burqas in assorted colors hanging in the closet and an eerie feeling passed over her as she made her way towards the light. Her hands began to sweat. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for or even what she expected to find, but she was afraid and the frantic beating of her heart rang in her ears.
She finally came to a glass display that sat in the back of the closet, tucked away in a corner.
“What is this?” she whispered as she looked at what appeared to be a collection of vases. But as she peered closer she noticed that each vase had a different woman’s picture framed above it. Her hand shot to her mouth and her heart sank into her stomach as reality slapped her in the face. Vomit built up in the back of her throat as she shook her head back and forth. The beautifully decorated vases were not vases at all . . . they were urns. The letters R.I.P were printed on them along with a time frame. Her shaky hand reached up to retrieve an urn. Liberty already knew what was inside, but she just had to look. She didn’t want to believe that the women in these pictures were dead, especially at the hands of Samad. But as she looked inside and saw the powdery dust she knew that it was true. She read the dates below each picture:
Mercedes
RIP
2007–2008
Joanna
RIP
2008–2009
Samantha
RIP
2009–2010
There were more than ten urns on display dating back a decade, and Liberty couldn’t help but notice that none of the girls before her had lasted for