Time was passing too fast, and I hadn’t done anything yet. Sometimes there was food, and sometimes I ate it. Nothing fancy. Sometimes cereal or toast. Sometimes peanut butter and fruit. Once there was some soup, but the peas in it sang, and I couldn’t eat them. It was my favorite song. I sang with them for a while, but I sang quietly because if I wasn’t quiet, the angry man came and told me that things would be bad if I made any noise.

I didn’t like the angry man. The scrawny man was better, not because he was nice, but because he didn’t say anything at all. Then, someone new came in. He was younger than the other two. Close to my age, maybe a year or two, younger. He was different, and not just because of his age. His face was soft, like he hadn’t seen or done as much as the other two. The thing that really stood out, though, was the expression in his dark eyes when he looked at me.

Pity.

I never thought I’d be happy to see someone pity me. I could use that, I realized.

Looking the way I did, I doubted a seduction would have worked. But if I could play the damsel in distress, maybe I could appeal to his inner white knight. He didn’t seem jaded enough to question my sincerity. If he hadn’t been one of my kidnappers, I might have felt guilty.

The next time he came in, I smiled at him. Not a sexy sort of smile, but the kind that said I was grateful for the smallest kindness. His eyes caught mine, and he smiled back. A part of me wanted to move right now, but I knew I needed to wait. I needed a clear head, and for that, I needed these drugs out of my system.

Which meant I needed to convince my white knight that I was harmless and no longer needed the drugs. When he set down the plate and cup, I cowered against the wall.

“Please, don’t hurt me. I promise I’ll be good.” To my shame, the quiver in my voice was real.

When he pulled the syringe from his pocket, I let out a whimper. That’s when I saw it. The glimmer of the doubt about what he’d been told to do.

“I don’t need that anymore. I won’t scream. Please don’t make me take it.” I wrapped my arms tight around my body and shivered. “It makes me see things. Scary things. Last time, I started screaming and…” I swallowed hard before I continued, “that’s when he hit me.”

The young man frowned. “He hit you?”

I sniffled and nodded. I put my hand to my cheek, wincing as if it still hurt. I didn’t need to fake how tender my ribs still were, only let it show on my face. I needed to be careful not to overplay my hand. If I pushed too much, I’d lose him and never get out.

“I have to give it to you. It’s my job.” He cast a furtive glance at the door behind him. “You don’t know what they’ll do to me if I don’t.”

I wanted to snap back that I knew damn well what they do to him because I’d been on the receiving end of one of Serge’s punishments. At least he had the freedom to choose whether to stay. I couldn’t say any of that, though, because I needed him on my side.

“Please,” I begged. “Maybe only give me a little. If anyone notices, you can say you didn’t want me to overdose. They might think you’re playing it safe, but they won’t be mad.”

I held my breath as I watched him consider the idea. It wasn’t the best possibility, but at least it was something. After a moment, he nodded.

“Alright,” he said, “I’ll give you half a dose. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to keep away anything scary.”

“Thank you,” I said breathlessly. “Thank you so much.”

I almost added something about how I could repay him, but I thought that might go too far. Besides, I didn’t want to put ideas in his head. I’d made it this farwithout being raped.

I closed my eyes and held out my arm, hating how submissive the gesture felt. It was one thing to not fight. It was something else altogether to participate. And this felt a hell of a lot like participating. Tears stung my eyelids, but I didn’t brush them away. I’d let him think they were tears of gratitude instead of shame.

“What’s your name?” I asked. For a moment, I didn’t think he’d answer me. There was power in a name.

“Yerik.”

“Thank you, Yerik. I’m Rona.”

I knew he knew my name, but one of the basics to surviving kidnapping or hostage situation was consistent reminders of humanity. I couldn’t become just another nameless, faceless woman. I needed to have a name.

As he stood, I looked up at him with pleading on my face, and said, “Will you come again, Yerik? Please. I’d rather it be you.”

His cheeks flushed, and after a moment, he nodded. We stayed like that for several seconds before he turned and walked away, leaving me with a clear enough mind to start thinking about escape.

I had to make sure no one else knew what Yerik had done for me. I wasn’t going soft. When I got out of there, I’d see that the FBI offered him a deal to flip on the others, but that was all he was getting from my gratitude. No matter how young or easily manipulated he was, Yerik was still involved in holding me captive.

I talked, doing my best to match the cadence and volume that I’d had the previous few days when I’d been on full doses of the drugs. I didn’t really think about what I was saying, letting random bits of what sounded like half of a conversation come out all on its own. It didn’t matter if any of it was based on real events or feelings. The privacy of my personal life wasn’t really my top concern now.

My brain wasn’t buzzing as fast as usual, but this wasn’t exactly a complex escape plan. It would come down to timing and sheer physicality. I would need to catch someone off-guard enough that I could not only get to the door but through the door. I couldn’t risk someone grabbing me just as I got outside the room.

That was another problem. I didn’t know what was outside. I could find stairs and another door with more mysteries behind it. It could be a house or a warehouse, in any sort of neighborhood. Once I made it out of this hateful room, I needed to get out of the building without being caught, then hope that I recognized where I was. I’d been in Fort Collins long enough to know my way around for the most part, but there were still parts of the city where I’d be lost. Granted, being lost was better than my current situation.

The odds were in my favor that even if I didn’t know where I was, I could find someone to lend me their phone. Then again, I had to consider the danger to which I’d be exposing anyone who helped me. The last thing I wanted was someone getting hurt. Or worse.

Size wise, it made more sense for me to go after the scrawny guy. But I thought that Yerik would hesitate, and that might give me the edge I needed to get free. I would’ve liked to wait a little more, but I knew I couldn’t count on Yerik to come back more than once. The next time the door opened, if it was him, I had to go.

As far as I could tell, my cell didn’t have any cameras, but I still took a risk when I pushed myself to my feet. I’d gotten rid of the tape around my ankles at some point. Fortunately, they assumed I was too far out of it to need them tied again.

I took it slow, making it look like I was wandering, chasing after things only I could see. My legs could barely hold at first, and it frightened me how weak I’d gotten in such a short time. Still, I didn’t give in to the desire to fade into nothing, to just let go. There was no way in hell I was going down without a fight.

Around the room I went, slowly stretching my arms and legs, testing to see where my weaknesses were. The colors were still there, in the background, swirling and muted, but I ignored them. It was easier to do while I was moving, and it gave me hope that this could actually work.

I heard the footsteps, and I told myself this was it. It was time.

I braced myself across from the door, knowing I’d need the momentum. Then the door opened, and the moment I saw Yerik’s face, I moved. No overthinking, no hesitation. I caught a glimpse of surprise on his face as I shoved past him, but I didn’t slow down.

The corridor was dark, but I caught a glimpse of light several feet away. I ran toward it, knowing it was my only hope. It wasn’t until I grabbed the doorknob that I thought I hadn’t considered what to do if the door was locked. For a sweet few seconds, as the doorknob turned under my hand, I could almost taste freedom. Then the door opened, and I hit a wall of muscle and bounced off.

Serge grabbed my arms in a bruising grip, the expression on his face promising more pain. I barely felt it over the despair that flooded me. This was it. I doubted I’d get another chance. Whatever horrors they had in store for me, I would have no choice but to face them. Still, I would not let them break me.