It was light out when Ginger came back, this time carrying a black duffel bag, the same dingy beanie still on his head. His face was different. What was it? He turned his back to her to set the bag on the table; it made a solid noise when it hit the surface: it was heavy. How long had it been since she’d woken up in here? No more than seventy-two hours. Would that give him enough time to find her? Hurry, Taured.

If he comes...

He will come.

Ginger dumped out the rest of the bag on the small table behind her. The noise of the objects hitting the tabletop was loud and metallic. There were a limited number of things that could fit in a bag of that size and be that heavy. Glancing at Braithe nervously, she saw her playing along, her head resting on her shoulder. He would kill Braithe first, she knew it. He’d played with her the longest, but she hadn’t been his real target, anyway.

He smelled...stank. Rainy wrinkled her nose, watching his movements closely. Beer and unwashed body, she thought. He’d gotten a drink this time...probably a lot of drinks, judging by the smell of alcohol.

“Paul,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Are you okay?”

His shoulders hunched but he didn’t turn around.

He’d been manic so far, riding his own chaotic energy. This was a crash. This is what she’d been hoping for.

“Ginger,” she said clearly. “I have to pee. She probably does, too.”

He froze. She could see his fingers gripping the edge of steel table, gnawing without teeth at the metal until the knuckles turned white. He’d heard her.

Fuck. Maybe that was too far. Licking her lips, she tried again. “Did you think that I didn’t know who you were?”

Still, he said nothing, his back to her.

“You were closest to him, weren’t you? I saw you the night of my mother’s...her funeral, or whatever he called that spectacle. I saw you other times, too...” She let that linger. “I know what he did to you. And I know what you did to Sara.”

His torso jerked and then he turned around. He was smiling, one side of his mouth jerked up like a cartoon character.

“Hey, Summer.”

Something was different, wrong. Not wrong—right. That was it: he’d shaved. Without the beard, he looked a lot more like a kid. She could still see that kid in her memories, tripping over his words and his feet...being tripped. Looking like he’d explode every time Taured paid attention to him.