He wrote something that Sam couldn’t quite see on Madison’s forehead, before walking over and writing something on her own. The stench of the marker was overbearing as it streaked ink onto her clammy skin.

He straightened and let out a long breath. ‘I’d love to spend more time with you girls but I must go; work tomorrow. I’ve left you enough food in the corner over there. You should be fine till I get back next weekend. In the meantime, make sure to keep yourselves clean. I’m sure you don’t want me to take you back to the fish-kill room for another scrubbing. There’s soap and toothpaste by the sink, and towels next to the food.’ His thick arm gestured to the items. ‘When I come back I expect every inch of you to be clean. We’ll get started next weekend.’

He walked to the door, but before crossing the threshold he looked back at them with a soft, loving expression that was in stark contrast to his actions so far. He averted his eyes but hesitated, like he was reluctant to leave. Sam’s body was painfully rigid as she tried not to move one muscle for fear he’d linger. She prayed he’d leave soon. Finally, he left with a loud click of the lock behind him. A few minutes passed before the girls heard the distant slam of the exterior cabin door. Once they were sure he wasn’t coming back, they rushed to meet one another in the center of the room. Sam sobbed into Madison’s shoulder, soaking the fabric of her dress with tears.

When they pulled away, Sam said in a wobbly voice, ‘He wrote the number ten on your forehead.’ She traced the black number with her fingertips. ‘What did he write on mine?’

‘Eleven,’ Madison replied.

They stood in silence for a long moment before Sam asked, ‘What do you think he meant by “get started next weekend”?’

Madison shook her head. ‘I have no idea, but at least we have a week without him so we’re safe, for now anyway. Come on, help me look for a way to escape. We have to get out of here before he comes back.’ Sam nodded in agreement, taking a deep, steadying breath.

The women scoured the room as far as their chains would allow in every direction, looking under the boxes of food and the stack of towels. They ran their hands along the walls and floor, searching in every crack and crevice. Sam’s fingers grazed something small and cool to the touch poking out of a crack in the cement. She picked it up and held it in Madison’s direction.

‘Look at this.’