Chapter 7

• Claudia
• I burst into tears once I am alone with Mrs. Clara; I feel like a complete idiot. How could I think I could escape from this place? All I did was show my demon of a husband how vulnerable I am. The only hope I have of moving freely within this prison is now lost because I don’t think clearly about my strategy. Mrs. Clara comforts me as she helps me into the bathroom to wash off the dirt, her harsh words replaying in my head over and over, intensifying the pain.
• If it hadn’t been for him, things might have been worse. Alone in the wilderness and injured as I am, I wouldn’t have gotten far. But what hurts the most is my pride. That imbecile keeps reminding me every moment that he bought me, that I am his property. I hate him with all my strength. I will never forgive him or my family for what they have done to me. I will never see him as anything other than the trash he is. The hot water soothes me and makes me feel better, but the various scratches I got from the fall sting in contact with the water. My head starts to ache, and I feel somewhat weak. I remember not eating anything at the gathering, yet I had no appetite. Only a sudden discomfort disturbs me.
• “It wasn’t right for you to leave the house in this cold without a coat. You have a high fever,” Mrs. Clara scolds gently.
• She must feel sorry for me, the poor girl hated by her own parents, abandoned to her fate in the clutches of a beast incapable of feeling compassion, who only enjoys seeing me defenseless.
• “I know it wasn’t right, but I am desperate. I want to go far away where no one will ever find me,” I mumble.
• “Mr. Mobasseri is not a bad person, contrary to what you think of him,” she says calmly as if trying to convince me that I am wrong. “He is a man who has suffered a lot. Sorrows hardened his heart, but all it takes is a ray of sunshine to melt the thickest ice.” It’s the first time Mrs. Clara says something different about her boss.
• “Don’t try to sway me by selling me the idea that that man is a kind person. There is nothing good in him. Why did he pay for me? A decent person with good intentions does not do what he did, falsifying a document that says I am his wife, because I am sure that is the only explanation,” I suddenly start shivering from the cold.
• “Let’s go to bed; your fever has risen too much,” she says, and helps me to bed where I settle in and she covers me well with the sheets, adding an extra thicker blanket.
• Despite being well wrapped up, I feel the cold seeping from my skin while my face burns with heat. My thoughts become fuzzy, and I seem to enter a parallel dimension where things come to life. Mrs. Clara’s words sound distant and distorted, and I sink into a limbo where I cannot distinguish the real from the unreal.
• I seem to see my husband entering the room worried about me; however, I know it is my mind that deceives me. Such a despicable being as he possesses no good feelings in his black heart, I cannot understand what he says, yet I see him moving back and forth until he finally leaves, slamming the door, which scares me. I curl up more between the sheets that seem damp, and once again, I let myself be carried away by the haze of my mind.
• I believe I wake up again, feeling something or someone manipulating my right foot; I complain every time they move it. I try to open my eyes to understand what is happening; however, my senses refuse to respond to me. A gentle hand rests on my forehead and carefully adjusts me on the pillow; I try to say something, but I feel like I am just moving my mouth without uttering a single word, yet they place a glass on my lips and help me drink; I am sure it is Mrs. Clara who is taking care of me.
• Richard
• I vent the frustration that the woman causes me by throwing things from the dresser. She is insufferable, unbearable, and ungrateful; if it hadn’t been for me, she would have long been working as a sex slave for one of those disgusting men who think they own the universe because they have money. I only saved her from suffering a wretched fate, although I admit they are somewhat right to want to hate me; I made her sign a legal document under the effects of a psychotropic drug. It was the solution I found to get her out of her parents’ house without her causing a scandal upon finding out that her father had sold her to me.
• But I deserve it for not being able to control my altruistic soul, although to be honest, having her in this house and making her my wife is becoming karma for me. Why the hell did Andrea never show me a photo of her? Now I understand why she told me that my wife was not to blame for anything; it is too much of a coincidence that they are so alike, although not as much as I thought at first, Claudia’s features are more noble and sincere, nothing to do with the malice and perversion that Hannah reflected. I must be crazy to be comparing them; they are two different women, nothing to do with each other, and they are far from being family.
• “Mr. Mobasseri,” Mrs. Clara calls at the door.
• “What did that unbearable woman do now?” I question after allowing her to enter.
• “The lady needs a doctor; she has a very high fever and her ankle is worse. I don’t think it is convenient to wait until tomorrow,” she informs.
• I rush out of my room to my wife’s room, while ordering my housekeeper to send for the doctor, no matter the cost to bring him to the house; I will not move Claudia until I know it is safe. I check her swollen foot, and it is true, the skin has become transparent enough to see all the vascular veins in detail; I see she is trying to speak, and her lips look dry. I ask Mrs. Clara for water, which she brings quickly; I pour a glass and help her drink.
• I ask Mrs. Clara to wait for the doctor downstairs and bring him up without delay, as soon as he arrives while I stay watching over my wife’s condition; it is my duty to take care of her, at least legally it is. She clings to the sheets that look sweaty; I decide to change them carefully not to disturb her foot; she may have a fracture and not just a simple sprain as I assumed. Despite changing her sheets, she continues to shiver from cold, so I decide to get into bed with her and hug her to give her my warmth; I hug her over the covers, not wanting to add discomfort to her discomfort.
• Her body Is so slender; she feels small in my arms. I can’t remember the last time I took care of someone like this; I never did it with Hannah; she was a strong and brave woman. I think the only person I have taken care of and protected in this way has been Fernando when we were kids and we were in the orphanage.
• “We will always be brothers, even if we don’t share the same blood,” I swore that day when I came of age and had to leave the orphanage; Fernando is a year younger than me, and that’s why I have always taken care of him like a younger brother.
• “Don’t do anything crazy; we will both be great, and we will never lack anything again,” we hugged, and I went out in search of my future.
• I return from the past when I hear the door open, and in comes Mrs. Clara and a man in a white coat whom I assume is the doctor.
• “Come in, doctor; here is the patient for the last half-hour; she has had a high fever and has been talking incoherently,” Mrs. Clara points out.
• “Excuse me,” he says and approaches to examine my wife. “Are you the lady’s husband?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
• “Yes, Richard Mobasseri,” I introduce myself.
• “Could you tell me how the lady got these bruises?” I know where this is going.
• “I assure you that I have never in my life laid a hand on a woman to harm her; I am not that kind of man,” I clarify with a troubled look. “My wife is not familiar with the property, and after the celebration for our anniversary, she went out to the backyard, ventured into the wooded area, and I suppose she then didn’t know how to return. I went out with several of my men to look for her when I noticed her absence, but I don’t know exactly what happened to her; we found her like that, without a coat,” I explain, omitting the part where I threatened her.
• “Given the state the lady is in, it is my duty to report this to the authorities,” he informs. I nod, asking him to finish examining my wife.
• I am not very concerned about the doctor’s assumptions; I know I would never physically harm her or any woman. Luckily, I have security cameras that can validate my alibi, and as soon as she is well, she can tell what really happened.