Daniella Wright [Wright - The Ithaden’s Slave

M aam? Maam, could you please come with me?

The policewomans tone was gentle and kind, which made Kate even more confused. When she walked into that bodega a couple of minutes ago, she had a simple plan: to ask the owner (or someone, anyone, really) where the heck she was.

Clearly, this was New York no mistaking the distinct aroma of pretzels and kebab, overflowing garbage bins and exhaust fumes. But it wasnt any part of New York shed ever visited before. Kate couldnt seem to find her phone to check her location on the map and knew shed never hear the end of it from her dad, who always teased her mercilessly about never venturing north of 59th street. My little Financial District girl, he would call her, with an unmistakable hint of pride in his voice. She was his favorite after all, the daughter that most took after him, with a head for numbers and a disposition strong enough to survive the constant back stabbings of the other capital advisors at her firm. Her firm

Kate felt a surge of panic. Here she was in the middle of the day, at a part of the city she never had to visit for work. Add to this the fact that her usually immaculate dark grey suit looked oddly tattered, her stomach felt really weird and her phone was missing... It didnt even take a Wall Street genius like her to put two and two together.

She had probably been roofied and mugged, Kate concluded. She shuddered to think what else may have happened to her. But being the super sensible person shed always prided herself for, Kate walked into the first store she could find to ask for directions in order to make her way downtown. Downtown, and to a police station. At least that was the plan. But as she entered the bodega and was about to approach the register, the newspaper stand caught her eye. This couldnt be right, could it? Granted, she wasnt sure about many things at this point (including where she woke up this morning, or how she found herself walking in that neighborhood), but she was certain she knew what the year was at least. And that year, the year printed on the top right corner of all the newspapers at the stand...That year was definitely not 2018.

Kate felt the tears blurring her vision even before she realized she was actually crying. How was it possible that shed lost a whole frigging year? Where had she been all this time? Where did her bosses think shed been all this time? Did she even have a job still? And what about her family, her parents and sister must be going crazy

Kates mind was racing a thousand miles a minute at this point, her heart beating like a drum. Instinctively, she started running her fingers through her hair as she did every time she was stressed and needed to think, ever since she was little. But her usually sleek blond strands, cut into a neck length bob, did not provide any comfort this time only more horror. Because if she had any hope that the whole thing was some weird mistake, a typo or a prank that every newspaper decided to pull at the same time for some reason, her hair told a different story. Now a good ten inches longer and thicker than ever before, Kates hair made the time shed lost suddenly very real and very tangible.

From what that kind policewoman told her later, thats when Kate threw the newsstand down and started screaming.

* * *

Kate had never seen the inside of a police vehicle before, let alone sit at the back of one. But officer Ramirez explained it was just a technicality: she wasnt in any real trouble. The bodega owner would not be pressing charges for the newsstand she trashed. Like the officer (who was at the bodega by coincidence, just buying a sandwich at the time of Kates episode), the owner was more worried about the young womans mental and physical state. Having witnessed a couple of incidents of assault before in the neighborhood, it was clear to him that Kate had probably been abducted and most certainly drugged. He would be praying for the police to catch the cabrn who hurt her, he said.

Officer Ramirezs voice was calm and soothing, washing over Kate like a hot shower. Gee, she wondered how long had it been since she last had one of those Flashes of her tiny Wall Street apartment, with her small shower and her narrow bed which now felt like the most comfortable place in the whole world, started coming to Kates mind. She found herself drifting, the view of traffic lights and the Hudson river at the distance doing their best to provide a relaxing wallpaper for her frazzled brain. Kate wasnt even aware she fell asleep, until the car stopped at the station. But then she woke up for real. It was time to start asking questions and she had a feeling she wouldnt like the answers one bit.

For starters, how was it that, whenever she tried to remember what happened in the last few days, weeks even, all she would get was some weird white flashes and nothing else? What made her hair, usually so thin and lifeless she had to visit a hair salon right before any important meetings, suddenly behaved like Rapunzels mane? And why, oh why, was it that suddenly she had such a craving for pastrami (or any kind of grilled meat, really), when shed been a vegetarian all her life? By the time officer Ramirez gently took her inside the police station to get her processed, Kate was so frustrated by all these burning question marks inside her head, she would trash another newsstand if she could.

Which was in itself very strange. Kate had always been the calmest person in the room, in any given situation. One of the reasons she was so beloved at her firm, was that she could always come up with super aggressive strategies to win over clients and turn stressful situations around, without ever having to raise her voice or so much as bat an eyelash. But her current emotional reactions ranged from sudden crying to the sudden urge to smash inanimate objects and a whole lotta frustration in between. Kate hadnt watched many CSI shows, but she was willing to bet that sometimes kidnapped victims would appear more scary angry instead of just scared. The fight or flight reaction is a real thing, she reasoned. Perhaps she was simply still fighting.

* * *

The date was April 14, 2019. According to the police records, Kate had been missing for exactly eight months and five days. Last time anyone had ever heard from her was in the afternoon of September 09, 2018, when she was expected at her parents home to celebrate her moms birthday and called at 19:39 from her office line to say she was still stuck at work. Apparently, not only did she never make it to her parents home, she also never showed up for work the next day either. That was when everyone started to worry, as Kate was famous for not taking sick days even when she needed them

Her family officially filed a missing persons report after 48 hours but, as the weeks turned to months with no sign of Kate, her case unfortunately joined the pile of all the other unsolved cases of missing persons a pile that, sometimes, can reach a four-digit number in the state of New York alone. At this point, as detective Bertson who was handling her case informed her (a burly man with a thick mustache and not even a third of officer Ramirezs people skills), all they were hoping for was a body to give the poor parents some closure.

Kate insisted in getting all the facts. She thought it might somehow help her piece together what had happened to her, jolt her brain into cooperating. But try as she might, her memory was still blank.

Perhaps its for the best, officer Ramirez said, as they were sitting at the station waiting for Katies family to come pick her up. Maybe your brain is protecting you from the trauma, until you are strong enough to process it. Kate was not so sure that was the case, but she didnt have it in her to disagree with the kind officer.