CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
She’d listened to him rummaging around in the house all day. On occasion, he’d sing hymns, one of which she knew from sitting on her grandmother’s lap in a small pew in a rural Baptist church. She was pretty sure it was called “How Great Thou Art.” Each time he hummed it she felt a fresh wave of nausea and fear, knowing what he had done to her—and what he would do.
As she’d listened to his singing and movements, she’d tried to get to her feet again. If she’d had on clothes, it would have been easier. She’d managed to roll to the far wall, place her back against it, and slowly lift herself up. Even then, though, her calves started to stretch and burn due to her ankles being so tightly tied together. Because she had worked up such a sweat by that point, her back would sl
