He took the stairs two at a time. Clearly he couldn’t get away fast enough from the situation. Big deal, she couldn’t get away fast enough from it either. Snatching up a sandwich and an apple, she went upstairs to eat.

He was gone longer than she expected. She finished her meal, and then, tiredness dragging at her sore limbs, she went back downstairs to take more ibuprofen and lie down. She turned off the light in the bedroom but left the door open. The image of Nina’s body haunted her and it hurt to breathe, but eventually she was able to drift into a doze.

The sound of the back door opening brought her to alertness. She listened to him descend the stairs. Then he moved around the unfinished area and bags rustled. When his footsteps came to the bedroom doorway, she said, “I’m awake.”

He walked to the side of the bed and dropped lightweight things onto the bed in front of her. Lifting her head, she looked at them. Six chocolate bars lay on the bedspread.

“Oh my God, you found chocolate.”

He set a stack of other things in front of her—three books and several magazines. Wonderingly, she picked up the first book. It was a used paperback, a romance. The second one was a Western, the third a thriller.

“I didn’t know what you like,” he said without expression.

“This is perfect. They’re wonderful.” She was thankful the room lay in such deep shadow, because the too-easy tears blurred her vision again.

“They’re not wonderful. They were seventy-five cents each.” He dropped one last item on the bedspread. It was a new prepaid phone, still in its packaging. “I figured you shouldn’t be out here alone without a way to get in touch with me, just in case. But if you use that to call anybody else you know, I will strangle you myself.”

“I won’t.”

He walked out as she pushed to a sitting position. She stared at everything. They were such simple items, just a few used books and magazines, some chocolate, and a phone. It was incredible how much better they made her feel.

She climbed out of bed to look for him. He knelt on one knee in front of the minifridge as he unboxed a cheap, off-brand coffee maker. A can of ground coffee and a packet of filters already sat on the fridge.

He was scowling, his expression irritable. “I bought more food. None of it is fancy, but there’s enough to eat for a day. You can take the phone when you go, but this coffee maker is mine.”

Who was this strange man, and what had he done with that bastard Josiah? She nodded, then realized he wouldn’t see it because he wasn’t looking at her. “Makes sense.”