“Up to your feet, girl,” the guard commanded.
It was night, and the guard usually didn’t come at night. Startled, I almost reached for the blindfold to pull it off as had become my custom when waking, but remembered in time.
Rising, I managed a “Yes, sir?”
“I’ve been ordered to take you out,” he said, unlocking the door. “Step forward with your hands at your side.”
He tied my wrists and used a tool to release the rivets holding the blindfold in place.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, pretending it was the first time I’d seen anything since my capture.
He maintained his stony reticence, pushing me up the steep stairwell with an insistent thrust. I was weak in the legs and used all my strength to reach the landing where the guard cut away my clothing—I had been wearing my clothes from home—an
