enough to cause severe damage or destroy the bridge, but it would be a symbolic attack on a nationalist icon, and the media would infer responsibility from the almost complete blue star graffiti. He had to do something, and fast.
The timer ticked into four minutes remaining.
CHAPTER 8
The Széchenyi spa baths had always been a realm of magic for Elena, a place that transformed her mother from tyrant to soporific princess. During the summers of her childhood, while her mother lay relaxing in one of the hot pools, Elena would play in the shallows, her mind weaving stories of bath nymphs and fairies. She would sink under the water, eyes open, gazing at the hazy figures beneath. Legs loomed like sea monsters and the giants of legend while she fought battles, waiting for the reward from the Bath King who would let her sink down into the blue forever. These moments helped her to forget the packages passed in the changing rooms, and how her mother would duck into the toilets afterwards, her daughter forgotten. She would emerge smiling, rubbing her nose, her body riper somehow.
As Elena walked into the baths today, her body heavy with the false pregnancy stomach she wore, she thought back to those times and how so much had changed. The fairytale of earlier days had been but a dream before the nightmare of her real life had begun. But today, she hoped to escape.
As a child she had discovered that the goodwill from the baths only ever lasted for a short time and then Elena found herself backhanded into silence as she tried to tell her mother of the nymphs. After a while, she didn’t mention them anymore. When her breasts had begun to show just before her thirteenth birthday, it was her mother who noticed first.
“Come, Elena,” she had said. “We’re going shopping.”
Elena remembered how excited she had been, for her clothes had been the subject of ridicule at school, hand-me-downs that ill suited her. Now it seemed that her mother would dress her like one of the popular girls. Elena had been confused when the only shop they had entered sold swimwear and her mother had picked out a tiny bikini. Elena was embarrassed but her mother just adjusted it around her newly formed curves and whispered, “Good, you’ll do just fine.”
On the next trip to the baths, her mother had kept a tight grip on her hand, making sure that Elena changed into the bikini. In the changing cubicle, her mother had clutched her arm tight, fingernails digging into her arm.
“Now, Elena,” she had whispered, her eyes dull. “We need money and you have to earn it. You’ll go with someone today and you’ll do whatever they want. Don’t make a sound or you won’t be coming home with me. But be a good girl and there will be money for nice things.”
Elena had felt confused, but she would do anything to avoid the beatings her mother doled out. So when the attendant lady had come to fetch her, she had walked behind carefully, following her to the door of one of the private spa rooms.
“I’ll get you in thirty minutes,” the woman said, her eyes flicking over Elena, dismissing her with one glance. “Go in, then.” She pushed open the door and shooed the girl inside the darkened space.
Elena barely remembered what had happened that first time, she had been so terrified. But by the end, her new bikini lay discarded on the floor and her insides felt bruised. The baths had always been a place to get clean, so why did she now feel so dirty?
After the third time, Elena had spoken up, telling her mother she wouldn’t go again, that she wouldn’t let the men do what they did, that she would scream and tell the police. Her mother had twisted her arm in a Chinese burn, making her listen as she told her daughter that she was a whore, she was ruined and she was nothing. This was her only life choice, this or be sold to the sex trade, and even that would be too good for a little bitch like her. Elena still wondered why her
The timer ticked into four minutes remaining.
CHAPTER 8
The Széchenyi spa baths had always been a realm of magic for Elena, a place that transformed her mother from tyrant to soporific princess. During the summers of her childhood, while her mother lay relaxing in one of the hot pools, Elena would play in the shallows, her mind weaving stories of bath nymphs and fairies. She would sink under the water, eyes open, gazing at the hazy figures beneath. Legs loomed like sea monsters and the giants of legend while she fought battles, waiting for the reward from the Bath King who would let her sink down into the blue forever. These moments helped her to forget the packages passed in the changing rooms, and how her mother would duck into the toilets afterwards, her daughter forgotten. She would emerge smiling, rubbing her nose, her body riper somehow.
As Elena walked into the baths today, her body heavy with the false pregnancy stomach she wore, she thought back to those times and how so much had changed. The fairytale of earlier days had been but a dream before the nightmare of her real life had begun. But today, she hoped to escape.
As a child she had discovered that the goodwill from the baths only ever lasted for a short time and then Elena found herself backhanded into silence as she tried to tell her mother of the nymphs. After a while, she didn’t mention them anymore. When her breasts had begun to show just before her thirteenth birthday, it was her mother who noticed first.
“Come, Elena,” she had said. “We’re going shopping.”
Elena remembered how excited she had been, for her clothes had been the subject of ridicule at school, hand-me-downs that ill suited her. Now it seemed that her mother would dress her like one of the popular girls. Elena had been confused when the only shop they had entered sold swimwear and her mother had picked out a tiny bikini. Elena was embarrassed but her mother just adjusted it around her newly formed curves and whispered, “Good, you’ll do just fine.”
On the next trip to the baths, her mother had kept a tight grip on her hand, making sure that Elena changed into the bikini. In the changing cubicle, her mother had clutched her arm tight, fingernails digging into her arm.
“Now, Elena,” she had whispered, her eyes dull. “We need money and you have to earn it. You’ll go with someone today and you’ll do whatever they want. Don’t make a sound or you won’t be coming home with me. But be a good girl and there will be money for nice things.”
Elena had felt confused, but she would do anything to avoid the beatings her mother doled out. So when the attendant lady had come to fetch her, she had walked behind carefully, following her to the door of one of the private spa rooms.
“I’ll get you in thirty minutes,” the woman said, her eyes flicking over Elena, dismissing her with one glance. “Go in, then.” She pushed open the door and shooed the girl inside the darkened space.
Elena barely remembered what had happened that first time, she had been so terrified. But by the end, her new bikini lay discarded on the floor and her insides felt bruised. The baths had always been a place to get clean, so why did she now feel so dirty?
After the third time, Elena had spoken up, telling her mother she wouldn’t go again, that she wouldn’t let the men do what they did, that she would scream and tell the police. Her mother had twisted her arm in a Chinese burn, making her listen as she told her daughter that she was a whore, she was ruined and she was nothing. This was her only life choice, this or be sold to the sex trade, and even that would be too good for a little bitch like her. Elena still wondered why her
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