Women.
There are women cramped into a dark space, barely lit by the dull lightbulb. Young women and girls who seem to be around my age, are all tied up with ropes and duct tape pasted over their mouths. They look at each other with fear evident in their eyes. And just like that the memories start to come back at me in full swing.
Trisha, the stalker in the grocery store, running from mysterious people coming after us, the five men…getting hit on the back of my head after nausea distracted me and falling unconscious.
Quickly I look at each girls' faces carefully to see if one of them is Trisha, but no. All these young women are strangers to me. For a moment I feel some relief because Trisha had not been caught, but then that relief transforms into dread.
If Trisha had not been caught, s
