She woke up at eight a.m. to a missed-call notification. Swearing, she tried calling the number back, but was met with a weird dial tone. She was about to text Grant when a chime told her that she had a message. Lying on her back, Rainy pressed the phone to her ear, her heart beating furiously at the sound of Grant’s voice. He sounded upbeat, but she could hear the exhaustion there, too. Stephen would tell him to rally, she thought, smiling, and he would. He was funny when he was tired, saying everything that came to his mind. She grabbed on to the sound of his voice, listening as he told her that they’d arrived safely and the day had gone amazingly well. She edged her way upright against the headboard and snaked her arm to the nightstand for the bottle of water. Where was her aspirin? Grant’s message wound down with, “I’ll try to call if I get a few minutes after lunch.” She had no idea what time that meant. She held the phone against her ear long after the message ended, feeling stupidly needy. Love was exhausting. It felt like a sore muscle...or a healing wound.

15

Then

Isolation wasn’t enough of a punishment for Taured: a bed, a blanket, food...those were all comforts of the flesh. To cultivate the change he wanted in a person, he needed them humiliated and afraid.

Bob and Marshall—trailed by Sara’s mother, Ama—led her into the room with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. The room smelled of urine and bleach and looked as bleak and yellowed as an old toilet seat. In the center of the room was a metal stool bolted to the floor. She sat down because she knew she was supposed to. Bob got on his knees to strap her ankles to the chair, avoiding eye contact even as she tried to catch his eye.

“Bob. My mama?” she pleaded, but his only response was a grunt as he stood up, work done, prisoner shackled.

A minute later, they both left, leaving her with Ama. She was a serious woman, a woman of conviction and discipline, as Taured so often praised her. Ama did not smile or meet Summer’s eyes. All the warmth from their previous encounters, like when Summer had eaten breakfast with them in the cafeteria, was gone. Ama stripped her of the blanket, leaving her naked on the stool.

She wanted to beg for the blanket, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing it wouldn’t do any good.

“Ama...” she said before the woman could leave. Her back was to the door, but she craned her neck all the way around to see the woman. Ama had stopped, but hadn’t turned around.

“Has he been in to see my mother?”

How many seconds ticked by as she waited for Ama’s response?

“No.”