Alessandro set me gently in the passenger seat of his car.
"Stay here, I'll be right back," he promised.
I was numb. It felt difficult to believe he would be right back, but I didn't really have the ability to do anything about it. Alessandro closed the door and disappeared back toward the motel.
I didn't want to look. I wanted to close my eyes and open them and wake up back in my apartment. I hated the feeling of these sweats on my skin. They were new, so they were soft inside, but there was something unnerving about them. The tennis shoes the prison gave me were too white, and they didn't fit quite right.
My face was throbbing from where Matteo had struck me only hours ago. I didn't want to see if it had left a bruise, but the side of my face was certainly tender and starting to swel
