Thirty
Lulu woke up in the dark. She blinked, blinked again. Still dark. Opened her mouth to say something. Couldn’t. There was something in her mouth. She tried to scream, to move her hands to her face, but couldn’t do either of those things.
Hands wouldn’t move. Feet wouldn’t move. She was tied up, she realized. And blindfolded. And something was over her mouth.
What the f**k?
Her heart was beating a mile a minute and fear rang in her ears. Her thoughts moved sluggishly and her brain felt filled with fuzz. She focused on her breath, which was a technique she used to control occasional stage fright. If she was breathing, she was alive. That was good. A breath in, a breath out. Even. Count the seconds. Make the breath longer. Breathe out, same count. Okay, now she could think a little
