She opened a breakfast bar. Just as she’d hoped, bits of chocolate and granola stuck to the inside of the wrapper. She wet her fingertip, put it against the bar’s sugary cement, touched the first ripped piece of paper, then pushed down against page 709 of the Riverside Shakespeare.

Seven bars later, she felt confident Chapman would get the message.

Angela

My name Caitlin Bergman

I am prisoner too

I know your parent

I know your friend

Will get us out soon

Be ready

Leave message here

Her back still to the camera, she set the books aside, picked up the black walking bag, and bit a second eyehole.

Once she could see with both eyes, she returned the books to the shelves, then went back to the couch and studied the TV’s cornfield.

Caitlin hadn’t run in a week. Even bruised and beaten, her body ached for a workout.

*   *   *

Sometime near sunset, the wall speaker crackled. “Caitlin, it’s time.”

Embower appeared in the front window. His black T-shirt had dark circles around the neck and pits, patches of powder everywhere.

“Get the bag and walk to the door.”

She picked up the bag, faced the eyeholes the right way.

“No,” he said. “Don’t put it on yet.”

He left the window. The steel panel in the door slid open. Caitlin saw his body through the opening.

“Put your hands through the hole,” he said, no need for the mic now.

“What about the bag?”

“Fine, put it on,” he said, impatient.

Caitlin did so, then fumbled toward the door like she couldn’t see. “Found it.”

Her hands went through the hole and the cuffs went on. She pulled back. The panel closed and the door opened.

He tugged her out. “Walk.”

With the clarity of two eyeholes, Caitlin saw a large opening with a tray full of plates to the right past the door to her room.

“Stop,” he said. “Turn left, walk forward.”

She went into her bedroom, heard the door shut and lock behind her.

“You can take the bag off.”

Caitlin did, saw him watching through the window. He motioned her toward the door. She put her hands through and he unlocked her cuffs.

“What do you think of the changes?”

She looked around the room, impressed. “This makes the process so much better. Thank you, Embower.”

His lips curled into a smile. “Anything for you.”

He slid the metal panel closed, latched something, then walked away toward the playroom.

He’d left dinner on the table, teriyaki salmon with rice and cooked carrots. Caitlin grabbed a bottle of water and dug in.