Love is a Fatal Crisis

I had no choice but to follow Nathan as he led me further and further into the mountains.

The air was cold, but the exertion from the hike had me sweating. My legs ached and my breath came in shallow gasps, but I pressed on.

The scent of flowers filled the air—familiar and nostalgic. It was the unmistakable fragrance of mountain azaleas. Even though I couldn’t see them in the dim light, I recognized the smell instantly. My childhood home was surrounded by the same flowers.

“Nathan,” I called, trying to keep my tone light, “which part of the state is your house in?”

Nathan glanced back at me, his chest rising and falling heavily as he climbed. “Southwest. Why?”

I shook my head with a small smile. “Just curious.”

Southwest wasn’t too far from my hometown, but far enough to remind me how isolated I felt out here. I pushed the thought away and focused on keeping up.

***

We walked for hours, resting when necessary. By the time the sun began to rise, I could finally take in my surroundings.

The landscape was vast and rugged, the high-altitude air crisp and thin. In the distance, I spotted a few small houses perched precariously on the tops of distant hills.

“Nathan,” I said, turning to him, “the sun’s been up for a while now. Where’s your grandfather? Shouldn’t he have met us by now?”

“Grandpa’s here!”

The response didn’t come from Nathan but from somewhere in the bushes ahead.

Startled, I froze as two, then three men emerged from the underbrush.

They were older, their clothes worn and patched. The acrid smell of stale cigarettes clung to the air around them. One of the men had a grin that revealed a mouthful of yellowed teeth.

The sight of them unnerved me. Something about their presence felt... off.

Instinctively, I stepped back, positioning myself slightly behind Nathan.

The oldest man spoke first, his voice gravelly.

“Nathan! Finally back, huh? Took you long enough,” he said, his eyes shifting to me. “And this must be Maya. You must be tired, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll be able to rest once we get home.”

He reached for my bag, but I pulled it closer to my chest, refusing to let go. The tension in the air grew thick.

One of the other men broke the awkward silence with a forced laugh. “Alright, alright. Enough chit-chat. Let’s get moving—I’m starving.”

His tone was light, but his eyes lingered on me far too long, making my skin crawl.

***

The rest of the walk was unbearable. I could feel their eyes on me, not with curiosity, but with a calculated interest that made me want to shrink into myself. They weren’t looking at me as a person. It felt like they were appraising me, as if I were a commodity.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached Nathan’s house. The building was modest, tucked into a clearing surrounded by dense forest.

The door creaked open and a middle-aged woman stepped out, her face lighting up with a broad smile.

“This must be Maya!” she exclaimed, her voice warm but sharp. “Oh, she’s lovely. Look at those big eyes—so pretty! But…” Her gaze dropped to my hips and she frowned slightly. “Her waist is a bit narrow. Won’t be good for childbearing.”

I froze, my face flushing with anger and discomfort. What kind of person makes a comment like that?

What’s more, Nathan had said his mother was gravely ill, but the woman standing before me looked perfectly healthy. Her rosy cheeks and energetic demeanor didn’t match the image of someone on death’s doorstep.

Confused and uneasy, I turned to Nathan for answers, but he avoided my gaze. He simply reached out to take my bag without saying a word.

Panic began to well up inside me. My pulse quickened and my left eyelid fluttered—a childhood superstition that something bad was about to happen.

Was I… being sold?

***

I followed them inside, my unease growing with every step.

The living room was sparse, with a rough wooden table and mismatched chairs. Two people were already seated—a young man and an older woman.

The young man barely glanced at me, his gaze skittering away like he was trying to avoid eye contact. The older woman, however, stared at me with thinly veiled disapproval.

Before I could protest, Nathan’s mother, Margaret nudged me toward the empty seat next to the young man.

“Go on, sit down,” she said briskly.

Nathan, meanwhile, had disappeared without a word, leaving me alone with strangers. I sat stiffly, my hands clenched into fists on my lap. Cold sweat dampened my palms as I glanced around the room, searching for any sign of Nathan. Despite everything, I still clung to a shred of hope. He was the only person I knew here.