All the rest of the day I barely speak. No matter how much Mack tries to talk to me, I refuse to be drawn into any conversation.
The offer of lunch doesn’t get a response. I’m too busy thinking about how I’m going to get from the bed and downstairs without breaking my neck.
Mack’s suggestion to take me to the garden tempts me for a moment. Not because I’ll be getting fresh air, but because it would make escape easier if I was already outside.
But then I catch sight of my gray duffel bag in the corner of the bedroom and I realize I can’t leave here without it. So, I have to make my escape from the bedroom. I can’t leave my clothes and all my cash behind because it’s all I have.
It’s only mid-afternoon when my stomach grumbles and the urge to use the bathroom sneaks up on me that I reali
