Chapter Thirty
Is it Sunday?
Most gratefully, Mae Lee has removed my gag and the hissing sound has been terminated. I sit in wait for something. I know not what. Hopefully, it is time to speak with Miss Denise and end the dark and silent isolation.
In being returned to the chair, I am guessing that I have been held for well over twenty four hours, though I have no way of determining with certainty. I have been well watered but have not eaten. Other than the brief encounters with Miss Denise and her male companion, I have not interacted with my benefactress, the woman who suggested there was a cure.
I hear the door open. The smell of food wafts. Bacon. Coffee, richly brewed.
“Thought we’d have breakfast together,” the firm and pleasant voice of Miss Denise proposes.
A hand grips my p*
