Breakfast and lunch drag by with agonizing slowness. By the time Diego and Eduardo tie me to the armchair and leave, I’m ready to jump out of my skin. I hope they couldn’t tell how anxious I am; I did my best to act normal, but I don’t know if I succeeded.
After I hear the front door close behind them, I sit quietly for a few minutes, making sure they’re not coming back. When I’m satisfied that my jailers are gone, I begin to move. My heart is beating in a fast, desperate rhythm, and my palms are sweating as I carefully reach into the chair cushions for the items Rosa gave me.
I fish out the hairpin first. With the ropes securing my upper arms to the chair, my range of motion is limited, but I manage to stick the pin into the lock of the cuffs. I’m far from an expert lock picker, but the
