Chapter 12
Abbott opened his eyes all at once. His headache, his constant companion, had disappeared. He touched his forehead, almost not believing it. He burrowed down under the rough wool blankets, pulling them up to his chin. The sunlight coming in through the window did little to warm him. Today, he needed to get the wood-burning stove working. Each day now, especially out here, it grew colder and colder.
* * * *
Beth lay on a damp mattress, spine stiff, trying to hold herself away from the mildewing pallet beneath her. Outside, the wind howled, came in like ice through the c****s in the wooden walls surrounding her, wooden walls that had become her prison.
The room was some sort of closet, or perhaps a pantry, since there were a few tiers of rickety shelving. These contained blue-
