Sweet Hatred-Chapter 471: MEAL

Sarah came back carrying plastic bags.

Water bottles. Packaged snacks. Wrapped sandwiches from some convenience store.

She set them down on the metal crate and then came over to me.

Her hands were rough as she grabbed my shoulders and hauled me into a sitting position against the wall.

I gasped at the movement, my body still aching from the taser, muscles protesting.

Then she pulled out the taser again.

Held it where I could see it.

Where I couldn’t possibly miss it.

"If you try anything," she said, her voice flat and dangerous, "I’ll use this again. Understand?"

I nodded quickly, tears already streaming down my face.

I understood.

God, I understood.

"Good."

She set the taser down beside her, close enough to grab if needed, and reached for one of the sandwiches.

Unwrapped it slowly.

Turkey and cheese on white bread. Simple. Basic.

She held it up to my mouth.

"Eat."

I shook my head.

I couldn’t.

Not like this. Not while tied up. Not while terrified of what she might do next.

"I said eat, Aria."

"I can’t... please..."

"You need to eat." Her tone shifted slightly. Almost caring. Almost concerned. "For the baby."

But underneath the words was a threat.

An implicit reminder that she could hurt me. Could hurt the baby. That I was completely at her mercy.

"Sarah, please, I can’t... "

"Why not?"

"Because I don’t know what’s in it!"

The words burst out before I could stop them.

Sarah’s expression flickered. Confusion. Then understanding. Then something that might have been hurt.

"You think I poisoned it?"

"I don’t know what you’re capable of anymore..." I whispered.

Silence.

Heavy and suffocating.

Then Sarah’s jaw clenched.

But she didn’t yell. Didn’t threaten. Didn’t reach for the taser.

Instead, she did something I didn’t expect.

She took a bite of the sandwich herself.

Chewed deliberately. Swallowed.

Then took another bite.

"See?" she said, her mouth still half-full. "Not poisoned. Not drugged. Just food."

She held it back up to my mouth.

"Now eat."

I hesitated.

My stomach was growling. I was hungry, hadn’t eaten since the birthday party, which felt like a lifetime ago.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to take it from her.

Couldn’t let go of the fear that this was a trick. A trap.

Sarah’s patience snapped.

She set the sandwich down and reached toward my face.

I tried to pull back but there was nowhere to go.

Her fingers found my nose and pinched. Hard.

Cutting off my air.

I tried to breathe through my mouth but she clamped her other hand over it.

Panic surged through me.

I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t get any air.

My lungs burned.

Black spots danced at the edges of my vision.

I had no choice.

I opened my mouth to gasp for air.

And Sarah immediately shoved food in.

"Chew," she ordered, finally releasing my nose. "Swallow. Now."

I choked, tears streaming down my face, but I did it.

Chewed the dry bread and turkey that tasted like sawdust and fear.

Swallowed.

She was already holding up another bite.

"Again."

I opened my mouth this time without resistance.

What choice did I have?

She fed me mechanically. Bite after bite. Forcing me to eat until half the sandwich was gone.

Then she finally stopped.

Grabbed a water bottle and held it to my lips.

"Drink."

I did.

The water was lukewarm but it helped wash down the food that had lodged in my throat.

When she pulled the bottle away, I was breathing hard, my whole body trembling.

Sarah sat back, studying me.

Then, unexpectedly, her demeanor changed.

She grabbed another sandwich, this one for herself, and unwrapped it slowly.

Settled into a more comfortable position on the floor, facing me.

Took a bite like we were just having a casual lunch.

"Remember when we used to have picnics in the park?" she said suddenly, her voice taking on a conversational tone that felt surreal given the circumstances.

I stared at her, unable to process the shift.

"In college," she continued, as if I’d responded. "Every Sunday when the weather was nice. You’d always forget to bring drinks and I’d have to share mine."

She smiled slightly at the memory.

"You’d get so annoyed with yourself. ’How do I always forget?’ you’d say. And I’d tell you it was fine. That I didn’t mind sharing."

I didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know if I should say anything.

So I stayed quiet.

Just watched her warily.

Sarah took another bite of her sandwich, still talking.

"Remember my dorm? That tiny room with the broken heater?"

A pause, like she expected me to fill it.

When I didn’t, she kept going anyway.

"We’d huddle under blankets and watch movies all night. You always picked rom-coms. I pretended to hate them but I didn’t really. I just liked watching you get invested in the stories."

Her voice was gettingg softer. More distant.

Lost in memories that felt like they belonged to different people.

"You made the worst coffee." She laughed quietly. "Like, genuinely terrible. So bitter it was almost undrinkable. But I drank it anyway because you were so proud of learning how to use that ancient coffee maker."

I felt my chest tighten.

These memories were real.

They’d happened.

Those moments, those small, ordinary moments, had been real.

"oh and when you failed that exam?" Sarah continued. "Basic Econs. You cried for three hours."

I did remember.

I’d called her sobbing, convinced I was going to fail out of school.

"I stayed up with you all night. Helped you study for the retake."

She had.

Had made flashcards. Had quizzed me until I could recite every reaction mechanism in my sleep.

"You passed. Got a B-plus. We celebrated with cheap wine and cheaper pizza."

We had.

Had gotten drunk in her dorm and danced to terrible music and laughed until our sides hurt.

It had been one of the best nights of my life.

Each memory was a knife twisting deeper.

Because they were real.

Those moments had happened.

That friendship had existed.

But it had been built on lies.

On Sarah’s obsession.

On something twisted and unhealthy beneath the surface that I’d never seen.

Or maybe I had seen it and just refused to acknowledge it.

Maybe there had been signs all along and I’d been too naïve to recognize them.

"Why did you do this?" The question came out quiet. Raw. Broken.

Sarah stopped mid-bite.

Looked at me.

"Why would you claim to love me and then hurt me like this?" My voice cracked. "Lie to me. Betray me. Pretend for years."

Tears streamed down my face now.

I couldn’t stop them.

Didn’t try to.

"I trusted you. I loved you. And you, "

I couldn’t finish.

The words caught in my throat.

Choked by grief and betrayal and the sheer impossibility of reconciling the Sarah I’d known with the woman sitting in front of me.

For the first time since the abduction, Sarah’s mask cracked.

Not with rage.

Not with obsession.

With something real.

Sadness. Regret.

Pain that mirrored my own.

"I had no choice."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

So quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

"You don’t understand. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose to feel this way."