“What?” Bugsy blurts out. It’s way too dark in here to see his face, but I can tell he’s taken aback by this.

“Olivia. You asked what my name was earlier.”

“Oh, right, I…thought I miss heard you.”

“Why are you being kind to me?” I am suddenly feeling brave. There is a pause. Bugsy is an interesting character.

“I…”. He hesitates and I find myself wishing that I could see his face. When he speaks, his voice has dropped to a whisper. “I want to help you. Or everyone like you for that matter. What they’re doing is disgusting and evil.”

“But you are one of them.”

“No!” He whisper shouts. This startles me and I instinctively flinch away, but I don’t think he can see that. “No, I had no choice I didn’t see another way! And this way I can at least try and help some of the people we take.”

“So, you help everyone escape?” My stomach can’t help but flutter as the idea of freedom is so tantalizing.

“No, I can’t help everyone. If our team was failing every transfer, they’d catch on, and I’d be seen as one of you.”

At this, I feel my emotions rise and my heart speed up. Offended by ‘one of you’. Does he see me as less than human too?

“So, you pick and chose who lives and who dies? How is that any different from them?” The question is out before I can think about it. I know what he means, he can’t save everyone. But I can't help but feel ticked off.

“I can’t help if I’m dead to.” He sounds genuinely heart broken.

He’s right. I hate that he’s right.

“How many people?”

“What do you mean?”

“How many people has your team handled?” Another long pause.

“Too many.”

It’s quiet for several minutes. My mind is racing at everything I just heard. Bugsy wants to save me. He wants me to escape. But what if he saved the last one and two in a row would be too suspicious. No. That doesn’t matter. I don’t need his help to escape. I am not dead yet.

Bugsy is silent for so long I almost forget he’s still sitting by the bed. I wish that I could see him. I can’t help but feel comforted by his presence, now that I know he hopes to help me. But I try not to let myself get to comfortable as my trust is dangerously close to unrepairable.

“I am going to get some sleep.” I don’t know why I feel the need to inform him, but I just do. There’s more silence and then just as I turn to my side away from  him he speaks.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

That’s an odd question. Caught slightly off guard, I find myself hoping that he’ll stay. I don't want to be alone anymore.

“No. You can stay.” I want you to stay.

“Okay, I want to stay then.” He’s so honest. I feel awkward. Suddenly I became very aware of my body and the space I take up. I feel the closeness of his body sitting on the floor even though I can’t see him. I’m glad he can’t see how my face probably flushed and how I pulled the blanket tighter around me.

At some point I hear his breathing steady. He fell asleep. This would be an opportunity to leave...at least check the door. Did he fall asleep on the floor? But I don’t move. This is weird. Combating emotions of comfort from him being so close, but also uneasy at the same time. I fall asleep lost in thought, playing with my ring on my finger.