“Drink,” the high-pitched voice said. “If I wanted to harm you, I would not need to do it through the water.”

She realized that he was right. There seemed to be little reason for her captors to play games with her water. She was completely in their control. She had no idea where she was, and no reason to think anyone else did, either. Only a fool in her situation would hope to be saved. She’d never thought of herself as a fool before, but perhaps there was still time to learn.

She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. It was water. Cold and crisp. She couldn’t detect any chemicals, but it didn’t matter in any event; her thirst took over and she gulped the water down so fast, she probably would never have been able to taste the liquid. She felt some of the water trickle down her cheeks, but she couldn’t slow her consumption. When she was done, she wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve, and held the cup out to her captor.

The cup was taken from her. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said. The sound of her voice was enough to make her want to be sick. How could she thank this person who had kidnapped her? How could she express gratitude to a man who would allow her to be bound and kicked and brought to this cold, dank, disgusting place?

“You are welcome.”

“Why am I here?” She thought it was a gentle way to start a conversation that might lead to information. She winced as she said the words, expecting to be hit for speaking without permission. She marveled at how easy it was to become a good prisoner, and how quickly the transformation could happen. She resolved to reverse the metamorphosis.

The man didn’t hit her. “You are Cormack O’Connell’s daughter,” he said. “He is the reason you are here.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“You don’t need to,” the man said. “He understands. That is all that matters.”

She digested that. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No.” The answer seemed definitive, and she wanted to take some comfort from that, but she knew to be skeptical. She figured that it wasn’t in her captors’ interests to have her lose hope. That would likely make her a more difficult prisoner. “At least, not if your father does what I have told him to.”

“What did you tell him to do?”

The man didn’t answer. “Do you need to use a bathroom?”

Diamond hadn’t realized until just that moment that she needed a bathroom desperately. It seemed as though the water had flowed through her body from top to bottom like a raging river, and her bladder was now begging for relief. “Yes, please,” she said. Again, the obsequiousness in her voice made her angry with herself.