My words only seem to anger Mrs. Green more. She marches over and sticks the needle into my upper lip. It’s a sudden movement, the pain sharp and stinging. A wave of fear rushes through me.

“Help! Somebody!” I cry. “Please!”

Mrs. Green smiles at me. “No one can hear you down here. I made sure of that. My little girls can’t help you.”

The long needle slides through my flesh, piercing my bottom lip. Mrs. Green caresses my cheek softly, looking furtively in the corner. “And are they watching us now?” Mrs. Green asks. “Ask them who called the wolves to my door. To take my Herman. Disappointments. All of them. They needed to learn.”

She pierces my upper lip again with the needle. I cry out.

“Shh. Shhhhh,” Mrs. Green says.

The corner of my mouth is now stitched shut. My mind drifts to Elliot. Maybe he managed to get over the fence. Maybe he’s far from here now. I think of the unfairness of the world, that monsters get to live while innocents die. I convince myself I’m ready for this. Maybe in death I’ll see my mother again.

Remembering my mother now, I can almost hear the words she repeated so many times: “We must let the light work through us, Ange. Where there is hatred, we must sow love. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope…”

Hope.

Out of the corner of my eye, there’s a flicker of something. Someone. Elliot.

He’s behind Mrs. Green and Herman, limping along the wall. He looks soaked and weak as he balances on one leg, but he’s quiet. An involuntary moan escapes my lips, a cry of joy or pain or both. I do all I can to keep Mrs. Green and Herman’s attention, making sounds, scratching the chair back and forth on the floor. Anything to keep alive what little hope there is.

Elliot picks up Mrs. Green’s discarded cane on the floor. He staggers towards her as she threads the needle back through my lower lip. I flinch, no longer able to move the left side of my mouth. Elliot cautiously drags his busted leg. He hobbles along, almost to Herman. Raising the cane, he’s about to strike, but then his foot catches on something. Oh, God. What is it?

The bloody whittle. It clink-clinks on the floor.

Herman turns. His mouth opens in a snarl when he sees Elliot. There’s a wiggly little stump where Herman’s tongue used to be. He lunges at Elliot, and Elliot swings the cane frantically, putting his full weight behind it.

The steel handle connects with Herman’s face. He stands there stunned as Elliot swings again. Crack!