Chapter ElevenLa li lala lo.
No one home. No one home anymore.
It was dark and she lay on the filthy mattress squinting up at a tiny crack of light that had recently appeared between two of the logs that formed part of the ceiling. It was not enough of a crack to give her ideas about enlarging it and somehow making an escape, because she no longer thought of escape. It was a concept that had gotten away from her. It wasn’t that she didn’t think it was possible, it was that escape, the idea, did not exist anymore.
He barely came now. He would open the door and push in a bowl of lentils and a jug of milk, he would take out the bucket that served as a toilet and empty it, then bring it back. But he no longer talked, not like he used to.
He avoided looking her in the eye.
It was bad befor
