CHAPTER 6: UNDER THE TABLE
No one dared to call her name in that meeting.
And because of that, Evelyn knew that her role was not to speak.
She was the reason the meeting existed.
The meeting took place in the afternoon, in the glass basement of the Eclipse building.
It felt cold like a laboratory.
The conference table was more than ten meters long, solid steel, the surface covered with black glass so shiny that it reflected the veins on the neck of the person sitting at the head of the table.
Dozens of people sat around the table, on the left was Vorak with guns and dangerous chemicals.
on the right was Serrano trading on the night floor, blood debt books.
Evelyn did not enter through the main door.
She was led in from the side entrance right under the table, where no one but the main wireman could see.
Diego leaned over the table, lifted her chin with two fingers, and said in a low voice just enough for the two of them to hear:
"This is not a punishment." A smile flickered. "This is your role."
Evelyn replied evenly, "I am not a symbol for you."
"You are the price we pay for not killing each other," Viktor said from across the table, loud enough for everyone to hear, but no one objected.
The silence was the scary part.
She knelt under the table, between long legs, the chair, and the sound of files turning pages.
No one said she looked up, or forced her to touch anyone.
It was the lack of pressure that made the atmosphere all the more oppressive.
They talked in a way that made no attempt to hide the fact that she was there.
"…the cargo line from the North Port to the South Deep Sea needs to confirm the insurance bag…"
"…K-9 bullets cannot move through the area outside the zone without signed order…"
"The media has smelled the silence of both sides, we need to create a new story"
The man's voice rang out, mixed with the metallic sound of the fountain pen and the chair turning back and forth.
Evelyn was kneeling in the midst of that gaze. Her hands were placed behind her back, her head was slightly raised, her eyes fixed on the darkness under the table.
No one touched her. But every now and then, Viktor's hand slid down the edge of the chair, resting on the back of the chair, like an invisible signature on the air above her head.
Diego occasionally tilted his head down, his eyes scanning her body, as if assessing when she would be able to submit to any of them.
No interest in flesh or control
At some point, when the discusion about the train route turned to the cost of blood, Viktor suddenly lowered his hand, his fingers brushing the air near the back of her neck,not touching, but close enough that her skin prickled in reflex.
Diego saw it. Hee said nothing, just pushed his chair back slightly, his knee touching her shoulder very lightly, as' if testing whether she would bend down or look up.
The room continued to talk about the warehouse, but under the table, her body became another map line that, if they wanted to, they could pour troops into before they could sign the order.
A Serrano subordinate opened his laptop, the image of the territory map appeared on the wall:
The red line was the North. The remaining Purple Lines were the South. The neutral ground not in the territory marked by the white stripe, where Evelyn was being used to hold this boundary.
He said: "If this deal falls through, we lose twelve warehouses and three train lines."
Viktor replied, propping his chin up. "One person gets to keep twelve warehouses, is that cheap?"
Diego glanced over, his voice cold and quiet. "Keep… or trade?"
Evelyn understood all those words. The question wasn't "can you handle it?" but "are you worth saving?"
Her existence wasn't measured in breaths.
It was measured in political side effects.
A man pursed his lips and looked at her from the corner of the table: "How can we be sure it won't backfire on both sides? In what moment?"
Viktor's voice rang out, his voice cold and dry: "She's not human."
It wasn't meant to be insulting, it was astatement that was defining the role Evelyn was currently playing.
Evelyn raised her head a little, looking straight at the voice under the edge of the table.
"I've always ben human," she said slowly, clearly, without trembling.
Diego leaned down, lower than necessary, and whispered. "Let's hope that's true after this winter."
---
The meeting lasted nearly four hours.
Viktor's mere movement of his hand on the edge of the table for hours was enough to silence the room.
Many other times, Diego changed his attitude, not joking, not smiling, just looking at his subordinates a if considering who was worth living after the meeting.
No one remembered Evelyn, but everyone knew she was there.
That was the punishment.
Not being humiliated by hand. But being erased as a human by the cold recognition of the group.
She was the end of every agreement.
What they did not say, but all understood:
If she disappeared, the blood of the two factions would be shed that night.
Three hours and fifty minutes later, the meeting ended.
Everyone left the room one by one.
No one looked at her as they left. Not contempt, but they considered her as a commodity to be brought to the exhibition.
The door to the meeting room slammed shut. In the rom now there was only her, Viktor, and Diego.
No longer the audience with dozens of eyes looking at her like before.
Evelyn stood up, her feet long numb, her wrists still aching from holding the position for so long.
"Do you really think I'm the one keeping the war going?" she asked, her voice no longer hard, just tired.
Viktor stepped closer, lifting her chin, not hard this time.
"No," he said. "War alway happens. It's just… now, it's going to happen on your body, not on the street."
Diego touched her shoulder, his eyes no longer smiling: "The scariest thing is not being possessed…"
His fingers began to move up the silver chain, stopping at her neck"…but being the reason for every decision."
Evelyn looked straight at them.
"I'm still human."
Diego smiled sadly. Viktor said nothing.
They both looked at her as if they were waiting to see how long that sentence would last.
—
Today, they put her under the
table to keep the peace.
But starting tomorow, she would be moved to the table, not to talk, but to sign the agreement on her own skin.