Edna shook her head. “Aren’t you worried about the baby?”

“Of course,” Evelyn replied. “What mother wouldn’t be?”

“What are you going to do if you go into labor while we’re being held captive?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“You’ve said yourself that this is a high-risk pregnancy. With all the stress and what we’re going through, it could happen anytime.”

“Edna, please.”

She ignored that entreaty. “You have no idea how long he plans to keep you. Even if the baby survives, and you do, too, you can’t raise a child in this situation.”

“We’re going to get out before I go into labor.”

“I don’t want to watch a baby die,” she stated flatly.

Evelyn winced. “Don’t—don’t say things like that.”

“I’m sorry. I just … I think I’m losing my mind. I can’t cope with this. I can’t bear it much longer.”

“We don’t have any choice,” Evelyn said firmly. Edna wasn’t bouncing back as Evelyn had hoped she would, and Evelyn desperately needed her to quit making matters worse. “We have to toughen up, do everything we can to encourage each other and stay alive.”

“He’s going to kill me. I’m useless to him. You’ll be around longer, but it’ll be a terrible existence.” She lowered her voice. “In case you’re wondering, I’d rather be me.”

“We’re both going to make it,” Evelyn argued. “I’ve told you before, Amarok will find us. You’ll see.”

The slot opened, surprising them both by its suddenness, and Lyman pushed several bottles of water into the room. One burst open as it hit the floor; Evelyn hurried to retrieve it. He was being so sporadic with the food and water she didn’t dare waste a drop, had no idea when they might get more. “Are you also bringing us something to eat?” she asked.

He bent to peer in at her. “I’m working on that!” he snapped as though it should be obvious. He’d been sulking ever since he’d tossed Edna into the cooler with her. He had such low frustration tolerance, and that seemed to be worse after his hemorrhage.

“Has something happened to upset you?” she asked.

“That’s none of your business,” he replied.

“I’m just being friendly. You want me to be friendly, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Leaving the slot open, he walked away.

Hearing his footsteps recede in the unique pattern of step slide that had become his gait, she ventured closer, trying to see more from inside the cooler than she’d been able to before. “It’s light outside,” she told Edna.

“That doesn’t tell us much. It’s light twenty hours a day this time of year,” Edna responded.

“Yes, but it feels nice to see the sun. Would you like to take a look?”

She shook her head.

“Come on,” Evelyn coaxed, motioning her over. “You can smell what he’s cooking. Maybe you can help me identify it.”

Reluctantly, the older woman crept closer, took one whiff and said, “Hamburgers.”

“And onions,” Evelyn said, closing her eyes as she breathed in the welcome scent.