Chapter 21
He might not even have to kill me, April thought. Maybe I’ll just die anyway.
It was pitch dark under the wooden deck. Rain was beating against the floorboards above her and dripping between the cracks. It had been raining off and on for hours, and the ground beneath her had turned to mud. Even though it was a warm August night, she was soaked to the skin, and she shivered from the wetness. And she was very hungry and thirsty.
After night had set in, Peterson had crept under the deck with her several times, holding a plate of food while he waved the lighted propane torch to warn her away from it. He’d chuckled cruelly at her hopeless attempts to grab at the food with her two bound wrists.
So now she knew that this was exactly the kind of t*****e Mom had endured at his hands.
