CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Hannah
Hannah whispered, ‘Time for Plan A,’ and shuffled across the room, waving her hands in front of her to avoid bumping into the walls or the bed in the dark. She moved to where she thought the gungy mirror was. Soon, her fingers touched a corner of it. She let out a tiny cheer, then tugged.
Nothing happened, not even a wobble. ‘Shit.’
Hannah traced the outline, found a screw in each corner holding the mirror to the wall. She pulled again, harder this time, but couldn’t rip it off.
All right, bring on Plan B.
She found her way to the bucket, stubbing a toe, dicked that they’d taken her runners when they brought her here. But at least they’d left her clothes on – it was freezing enough. And it’d be so embarrassing going for help in the nuddy.
She tipped out the
