Fighting the urge to throw up, I remain silent as he pushes the knife upward, toward the thin skin under my left eye. The blade cuts through my cheek on the way, and I feel the warmth of the blood trickling down my cold skin. I know he’s not bluffing, but I also know that giving in will not change the outcome. Majid will torture me to get answers—and once he gets them, he will torture me even more.

Glaring at my lack of reaction, Majid presses the knife deeper into my skin. “Last fucking chance, Esguerra. Do you want to keep your eye or not?”

I don’t respond, and he drags the knife higher, causing my eyelids to squeeze shut reflexively.

“All right then,” he whispers, enjoying my body’s involuntarily panic as I try to jerk out of his reach… and then I feel a nauseating explosion of pain as the blade punctures through my eyelid and penetrates deep into my eye.

I must’ve lost consciousness again because there’s more cold water being thrown at me. I’m shivering, my body going into shock from the excruciating agony. I can’t see anything out of my left eye—all I feel there is a burning, leaking emptiness. My stomach roils with bile, and it takes all of my effort not to vomit all over myself.

“How about the second eye, Esguerra, hmm?” Majid smiles at me, his bloodied knife held tightly in his fist. “Would you like to be blind while we take your dick off, or would you rather see it all? Of course, it’s not too late to stop all this… Just tell us what we want to know, and we might even let you live—since you’re so brave and all.”

He’s lying. I can hear it in the gloating tone of his voice. He thinks he’s got me nearly broken, so desperate to stop the pain that I will believe anything he says.

“Fuck you,” I whisper with my remaining strength. You don’t back down. You never back down. “Fuck you and your pathetic little threats.”

His eyes narrow with rage, and the knife flashes toward my face. I squeeze my remaining eye shut, preparing for the agony… but it never comes.

Surprised, I peel open my uninjured eyelid and see that Majid got distracted by one of his minions. The man seems excited, pointing toward me as he chatters in rapid Arabic. I strain to make out some of the words I know, but he’s speaking too fast. Judging by the smile spreading across Majid’s face, however, whatever he’s saying is good news for Majid—which means it’s probably bad news for me.

My supposition is confirmed when Majid turns toward me and says with a cruel smirk, “Your other eye is safe for now, Esguerra. There is something I really want you to see in a few hours.”

I glare at him, unable to hide my hatred. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the pit of my stomach tightens as the terrorists file out of the windowless room. There’s only one thing that would persuade me to give in—and she is safe and sound in my compound. They can’t possibly be talking about Nora, not with all the security I have around her. It’s some new mind game they’re playing with me, trying to make me think they have something worse in store for me than what I’ve already suffered. It’s a delay tactic, a way to prolong my suffering—nothing more.