Chapter 39Sara began to regain consciousness, though she didn't move. Her thoughts were distorted. One hand was twisted under her. Her fingertips told what she lay on. A concrete floor? A weak stream of light filtered into the room from somewhere up high. She was thankful the light didn't fall directly on her. Someone close by was rummaging through stuff, moving items, shoving things. She played dead.
Someone in a long dress stepped over her, the hem of the dress brushing over her face. The fabric carried a foul-smelling body odor. She almost gagged, held her breath, and felt her face heating up from want of fresh air.
“We should have brought a flashlight.” The woman's voice was just above a whisper. “Where is it?”
“Just leave it!” It was a man's gruff whisper. “Let's get out of here.”
