“People like you don’t get those privileges.” The woman sneers, and it's then I notice she’s out of uniform, dressed all in black and the name Diana is spelled across the small breast pocket of her cotton shirt. “She told you to back off.”

“She who?”

“We have some blood on a tree near the back of the lot!” someone shouts from the kitchen area, prompting another two men to exit in a rush. No one speaks for a few minutes, but the tensions mount between those left inside. I’m left with Diana, Consuelos, and the man pinning me down. “I need someone to call in the forensics team.”

Nobody takes out their phones, though. Instead, the two standing look down at me with condescending smirks on their faces. “So where did you hide the body?” Diana starts the questioning, squatting down to where I’m being held, my body crushed against the floor. “Do you hate your best friend so much to have killed her? You stole her husband, and now this?”

“What body? What husband?”

“Theodore Astor has been married to her…”

I drown out the rest. That makes no sense.

It has to be a lie. I asked him, and he told me he wasn’t.

That I was all he wanted.

“That’s a lie.”

“Is it?” Diana pulls something out of her back pocket, a folded note with some writing on it that looks too new to be real. “Here’s their marriage certificate. Believe me now?”

The paper in question is dropped right in front of my face. Moreover, it’s a marriage license, dated and stamped by the courts ten years ago, and yet, the ink is dark blue, something that no government agency uses. It’s all black. End of. Second, what stands out is Elise's signature, yet Theo’s is off.

That’s not the one I saw in my contract.

“So they're married?” I ask, my voice low and sad. I’ll play along until I manage to get Theo on the phone. “Why didn’t she tell me? Where is she?”

“Why don’t you tell us? Is that her blood on the tree?” Consuelos looks around nervously, meeting Diana’s gaze before shifting to the man on the ground and nodding. “Stop resisting, Gabriella! We only want to help you.”

“Hands where we can see them. Hands where we can see them!” This came from Diana, and dread fills my chest. Lord, please help me. Something is very wrong here.

“I’m not resisting—” Pain explodes behind my eyes, the side of my skull feeling as though they’ve cracked it, and the last thing I remember as I’m thrown over a man’s shoulder and rushed into the back of a dark green car is the white snake.

It’s coiled along the large tree in my front yard, watching while the door is closed and my eyes roll back. And yet, I manage to open them once more and meet its eyes, milky blue and unafraid, and right before something is pressed to my nose and mouth, it nods.

My body aches when I come to. My head feels as though it’s been split open by a jackhammer, and yet it’s the least of my problems. I don’t know where I am or why, but I’m inside of an all-white room with padded walls and a single window up high. Out of reach.

It’s there to let me know the sky is dark out, and it’s a rainy night at that.

The water pelts against the closed panes and I look up, catching a shadow looking in. Two beady eyes.

“That’s it. I’m certifiable.” The animal head-butts the glass hard. Once. Twice. Three times before it shatters and the pieces rain down on the ground. “I wonder what did me in? Did I snap like those people on all the crime shows I watched? Will they make one about me?” I mutter under my breath, sitting up with my back against the wall.

My mattress is on the floor with only a thin blanket and pillow atop of it. I will say I’m thankful to still be in my clothes, the paint splatters from earlier today now dry and caked on my skin.

The animal starts to descend into the room headfirst, but pulls back when the clack, clack, clack of heels comes near. They stop at my door for a second, the feminine voice saying something to whoever is with her before turning the handle.

“Nice to see you’re up.” Elise walks in and stops a few feet from me. “Not that you’ll be around much longer.”

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you missing?”

“To the world, I am missing.” She takes another step closer, and there’s something in her hand that looks like a syringe. “Just like you’ll be soon.”

I’m wobbly when I stand, stumbling a bit, but I manage to pull myself up against the wall just below the window where I know it’s hiding. “Stay away from me.”

I don’t know who’s worse; the snake or her.

“Or what?”

“Elise, this isn’t funny. You’re going too far.”

“He will never know what it’s like to rule with you by his side.” Her eyes hold so much evil. So much hate. “Long live the queen, Miss Moore.”

Her hand snaps back and forward quickly, and I only manage to catch the glint of metal before it’s coming toward me. I’m paralyzed, stunned she’d do this, but then it falls to the ground somewhere to my left.

The python slithers down the wall, its large body falling slowly to the ground before taking its place in front of me. Like a protector would. It coils, but its head remains off the ground while staring her down. For each move she makes the snake follows it.

I don’t scream. I don’t cry.

I watch and wait.

Surprised when Elise attempts to walk back out slowly, the fear I felt now reflected in her eyes. “He’s coming.”

The serpent doesn’t move, but flicks it tongue out almost lazily. Almost taunting.

“Fucking shit!” Screams come from the corridor then, a mass frenzy of terror, and I slide down the wall behind the albino guard. He’s either here to kill me or protect me, and right now, either sounds fine. “This isn’t over. Tell him this isn’t over!”

Then she turns and runs, yelling at someone to get her out before they are caught and killed.

And through it all, as doors slam and people’s screams begin to fade, I remain where I am.

It could be minutes or hours, who knows, but my rational mind comes to when a cold head lies atop my hand on the floor. Its skin is smooth, it’s presence a bit comforting, and I smile down at the creature.

“If you’re here to kill me, go ahead. At this point, it might be better this way.” An angry hiss is the response I get, and I nearly laugh at the sound. I’m hanging with a snake. I’m touching a snake. The animal takes his eyes off me, taking in my reactions, and after a few minutes rubs his head against my skin the same way that Mr. Pickles does. “Are you wanting me to pet you?”

Not that I expect a response, but when I get this small little nod, I laugh. Loud and near hysterics, but I do. I run my fingers over the head and down the neck in slow passes while looking toward the room’s entrance. I can still hear some commotion outside this room—try to ignore the shrill screams of agony—until it all dies down.

Then there’s nothing.

A stillness that is eerie.

But through it all, my companion stays by my side and poised to strike, if it comes to that.

That is, until footsteps come close. Closer.

They stop just outside my door and a sharp whistle rends the air, a sound my new friend follows. No looking back. No goodbyes.