Five weeks, three days, eight hours, and twenty-one minutes—that"s how long the imprisonment lasted. It was near the end of March, I"d turned twenty, and we"d survived the crisis.
Five weeks, three days, eight hours, and twenty-one minutes without human contact or conversation. Music playing on an old device was the only time I heard other voices except for mine—and his. Cecil"s voice continued to whisper in my ear when I slept. The noise in my head convinced me it was not a dream but a memory. How many times did I wake up in that locked, upstairs room of the old house to find him loitering about in the dark?
How many times did I wake up in that locked, upstairs room of the old house to find him loitering about in the dark?I"m quiet. My ears prick to the sound of footsteps and a stifled
