His footsteps, almost inhumanly light, pad behind my head and to the other side. He is going to tie up my other arm. My legs, too? Lucie’s are tied, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t give us the same treatment.

If he doesn’t, I’m pretty sure I could throw my legs up over my head and kick him in the face. I don’t think that would do me much good in the long run, but I would prove that I’m not scared.

Although you are.

Caleb buckles my other wrist, pulling so hard the leather pinches my skin. I grit my teeth at the stinging, but I swallow any cry.

He is going to try and get a reaction, it’s what feeds him, so I’m going to have to try and hold it in.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” he cheers.

I look up as a white towel blocks my view. The thick material lands on my face and panic claws at my throat.

Gripping the side of the bed where my wrists are strapped, I curl my toes and brace myself. His footsteps, suddenly heavy on the cheap laminate floor, thud away from me.

With my eyes closed, I can hear better, smell the floral scent of the fabric softener the towels were washed in.

The very thought of them washing these towels is strange. Why do they care that they’re clean? What does it matter?

Lucie’s fast breathing synchronizes with mine.

Caleb rummages around, and the sound of plastic hitting plastic fills the air. Then pouring water.

I grip the bed harder.

Caleb whistles a tune I don’t recognize as the water stops. He has filled a jug, and now he is coming for me. There is nothing left for him to do. Everything he needed to do to prepare me has been done.

It’s time.

I can’t see anything. My eyes are closed and covered by a towel. Caleb has gone quiet. I don’t know if he’s standing over me or if he’s still over by the far wall.

My pulse and heavy breathing are all I can hear.

Where is he? When is he going to start?

Stay calm, hold your breath, don’t panic.

There is no doubt in my mind that I can get through this. I have to be strong.

In here, I’m not Piper Willis. I don’t really know who I am, but I know that I can get through anything they throw at me.

A heavy weight presses down on my shoulder. Caleb’s hand.

He’s here, right here.

This is when it begins.

The first drop seeps through the towel and hits my lips, pattering onto the towel like a raindrop. But it’s not raining, it’s about to storm.