Then the light fades.
"It's gone. I think I lost it when I was thrown around in the car."
I shut my eyes for a moment. "It's okay, it'll be okay."
"I'm not five."
I sigh. "I know. I just... it was for me, too."
"But wishing won't help. There's got to be a way out. That maid, what was her name? Greta?"
"Gretchen."
She wrinkles her nose. "She said she's essentially a prisoner, too, right?"
I sigh. "I don't think she's going to help us. She's been here a long time. Probably long enough to have developed a very healthy fear of consequences."
Either that or... people can get caught up in their kidnappers, and?—
Shit, is that me? With Enzo?
The moment the thought comes, I dismiss it.
I've known Enzo all my life, and I've probably crushed on him for two-thirds of that. I might have thought it was hate for a while when he abandoned me, but that was the crush getting crushed down.
He comes back in, and...
And this is different.
Enzo didn't hurt me, didn't torture me. He didn't rape me like what happened with poor Gretchen.
If we get out, I'm getting her out. Somehow. This isn't a life for her.
She's shut down, closed off, and she needs friends, a life. A chance.
Of course, I might never get out of here.
"Lyndall, I don't think she's in a position to help. I don't think she leaves."
"Then she'd want to, right?"
I just look at her.
Lyndall takes in my expression. "Oh, Stockholm Syndrome."
"If you accuse me of that, I'll be upset."
But she shakes her head. "You're all over the place with Enzo, and you tried to run once, and you like punishing him. You're good. Even when you do disgusting things with him, you're good."
"Disgusting...?"
"Sex. I told you, I'm not a child."
I shake my head. "Can you not...? So embarrassing."
The door opens, and Gretchen comes in with a tray. Sandwiches and water.
"Hey—"
