40
Sara
It feels strange to walk to the helicopter with Peter and know that I’m leaving the mountain for the first time in four and a half months. For some reason, I didn’t do that math before, didn’t add up all the days and weeks that have been passing by, but now that I have, I realize it’s been a year since Peter came into my life… a year since he broke into my home and tortured me to get to George.
I haven’t seen my family in four and a half months, and if I don’t escape, I may never see them again.
Unless Peter gets killed, an insidious whisper reminds me, and my heart falters for a beat. Worry for my captor is a constant heavy band around my lungs, unbreakable and suffocating, and no matter how much I reason with myself, I can’t make the fear go away.
I don’t want my freedom.
N
