He parked behind a convertible on a quiet street and led her up to his front door, the knife still in his hand. She looked around, wondering if one of the neighbours might be looking out the window. But it was the middle of the night. All the curtains were drawn.

He was on her right. The knife was in his left hand. She could have grabbed it, but her fingers were likely to grip the blade directly. It would hurt, and she would bleed.

This was another chance she would hate herself for missing, later.

She had thought she was scared already. But she didn’t really understand what fear was until she saw the room. The camera. The padlocks on the open door.

She lost it then, screaming, thrashing, trying to claw his eyes out. But now it was too late. He grabbed her upper arms hard enough to leave bruises and threw her onto the bed. Then he braced the door shut with his foot as he engaged the padlocks, one by one.

There was no adjustment period. At college there had been an Orientation Week. Not here. Shannon was excited. More excited than she had ever seen a man.

‘Say hi for the camera,’ he said, his voice slightly muffled by the plexiglass. ‘And maybe blow a kiss, or something.’

Still nursing her bruised arm, Abbey told him to go fuck himself.

He seemed delighted to hear this. Like he’d been waiting for the excuse to do something terrible. She fought the urge to shrink away from the glass—if she stayed close to the door, she might just be able to force her way through when he came in to beat her or rape her.

He didn’t come in. He just switched off the lights.

Suddenly blind, she fumbled her way over to the glass wall, looking for the door. But he didn’t open it. There was complete silence.

As a little girl she had gone to the Ohio Caverns with her older brother. They had driven fifty miles to see the huge limestone stalactites, protruding from the roof like alligator’s teeth. But what made a more lasting impression was a smaller cave, left unlit to show city slickers what real darkness looked like. Abbey had only spent a minute in there, but it was enough to make her stomach churn. Even though she knew other people were right outside, it was impossible not to feel the weight of all that stone above her head and think, What if I never find my way out? She could hear her brother’s breaths quickening beside her. She held his hand as they left, and it was as damp as the walls.

In Shannon Luxford’s homemade prison, the silence and darkness were so much thicker. Her heart raced until it felt like she was going to die.

‘Okay,’ she said finally, ‘I’ll do it.’

There was silence.