“Let me go,” she whispered. “Please.”
“I’ll decide about that,” the naked man replied, and walked Gran into the closet. There, he pressed her against the shelves, face forward, pulled both her hands behind her back (this really hurt), and tied them up with a belt or something similar. “And now, you’ll wait patiently until I get ready,” he said, and pushed her down on the mattress on the floor.
She dropped like a marionette puppet. Her bound hands made it impossible to get up, even if she would have been able to summon all her courage. She just watched helplessly as the man got dressed. He had a bandage on his belly, but why? His face seemed familiar from somewhere. Was he the politician? But would the wife keep her own husband locked up?
The thoughts ran through her mind a mile a minute
