Betty's demands left me in a difficult position.
As long as I had the gun, she wouldn't dare rush in. She'd have no choice but to wait me out, relying on thirst and starvation to weaken me until I was easy to overpower.
But my instincts told me she didn't want to kill me—not yet, at least.
After a brief hesitation, I pulled the pistol from its holster and slid it under the door.
Betty picked it up with a triumphant laugh.
I watched through the crack as she walked a short distance away and began whispering with Anna.
I knew this moment would decide both Kayla's and my fate.
Their discussion dragged on for what felt like hours, stretching well past dinnertime. Finally, they returned to the cabin and unlocked the door.
Betty stepped inside, pointing the gun at me. "Mr. Fraser, please
