During her captivity, she had drunk handfuls of water from the bathroom sink. But she hadn’t gorged after her belly had become more and more bloated from lack of food. Melissa wondered if, secretly, some part of herself had made the decision that quickly dying of thirst was better than slowly starving in darkness. She hadn’t worked that hard to keep herself alive during the last days of her confinement. Once she’d realized that Philip couldn’t be negotiated with, she’d unconsciously begun preparing for the end.

But she was alive. Melissa wasn’t sure if that was true of the other woman. By the time they’d limped out of Coffre, Tonya’s shirt had been soaked in blood.

“Is she okay?” Melissa shouted toward the door as the needle pierced her skin.

The nurse looked at her as if she’d expressed pain in a foreign language.

“Tonya,” Melissa said. “Did she make it?”

She wanted to know. Perhaps just as much, she wanted to get the police interview over with. The sooner she spoke to the detectives, the sooner she could see Imani. They wouldn’t let them talk until she’d given a statement, Melissa figured. Otherwise, her friend would be here. Unless, of course, there was some crazy COVID protocol preventing patients who’d narrowly escaped being killed from quarantining in the same room.

The nurse glanced over her shoulder at the detectives, providing tacit approval for them to enter.

“Hello, Mrs. Walker,” the female said. She extended a hand and then, seeming to remember that no one shook hands anymore, patted the slick side of her tight bun. “I’m Detective Linette Calvente, and this is my partner Detective Roger Powell.”

“Is she all right?” Melissa tried again. “Tonya, the woman who was stabbed.”

“She’s in surgery,” Linette said.

“We’re hoping for the best,” her partner added.

Melissa had barely seen Tonya’s state, having collapsed shortly after escaping. But she’d felt the woman’s blood, hot and wet against her side as she’d helped her limp from the room. They’d both been banging the pipes with all their might, despite Melissa’s dehydration and Tonya’s wounds. Before Imani had rescued them, Tonya had nearly collapsed. It had taken the last of Melissa’s energy to drag her out the door.

“Melissa”—the female detective said her name with a certain amount of awe, as if Melissa had been resurrected—“we need to know what happened.”