Of my hell.

I roll my neck from side to side, my eyelids peeling open to find Dean staring at me from his corner with the faintest smile touching his lips. I make a sour face. “Were you watching me sleep?”

His chains jingle when his shoulders shrug in reply. “I’m not exactly overwhelmed with better things to do,” he quips as that strange, little smile lingers.

It’s a curious thing to see given our situation. I don’t think I’m capable of smiling—not until my chains are lifted and I am free.

But… will I ever be free?

I shake away the depressing thoughts, stretching out my legs and straightening, then wincing when my muscles protest. The ground is cold and unforgiving beneath my bare legs, adding to the discomfort. I flick my eyes up to Dean. His smile has dissolved, but his gaze is still soft as he watches me. “How did you sleep?” I ask him. I already know the answer, but I’m not sure what else to say—our assortment of conversation starters is fairly scarce.

Excited for your pee break today? Ready to watch me get sexually assaulted? How soon do you think they’ll find our bodies?

My own morbid thoughts make me cringe, so I swallow them down.

“Not as good as you,” Dean says. There’s a distinct twinkle in his eyes that matches the smile I already miss. “You were out like a light.”

“I was drooling, wasn’t I?”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

I almost smile. Almost. Instead, I dip my chin, pursing my lips together as I stare at my shell pink toenails. Mandy and I had gotten pedicures after work on Friday to celebrate the weekend festivities. I realize that today is her actual birthday. My sister will likely discover that her two favorite people in the world are missing… on her birthday.

Happy birthday, sis. I got you a Fitbit.

I wonder if Dean is reading my mind because he tilts his head to the side, studying me almost fondly. “She was excited for that ice cream cone today,” he tells me, and there is a whimsy to his voice.

Tears well and burn as I nibble on my lip. Mandy and I always celebrate our birthdays together with an ice cream cone at a downtown café. We do our secret handshake, take a selfie in front of the ice cream parlor, and eat our treats on the swings at a nearby park. It’s been tradition ever since we were children when our parents would take us. Mandy’s birthday is in November, so often times we are bundled up like Eskimos, getting strange looks from passersby as we sit on snow-covered swings.

But we love it.

And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

I wiggle my toes as the memories force a few silent tears down my cheeks. I brush them away with my shoulders and try to suck in a calming breath.

Dean is still watching me, taking in my emotions like a film. “You’ll get that ice cream cone. I promise you.”