He’d drifted off a bit, or maybe he’d been hoping she’d think him asleep, but it hadn’t worked either way. He opened his eyes and saw that she glared at him as if they were having a staring contest, a nice remnant of the old days in primary school.

“Answer her question.” This was Trish, peeking over the edge of Sadina’s right shoulder. “Be sure it’s a good enough answer to shut her up or we’ll be seeing dawn or death before she finally does.”

“Oh, what a sweet pumpkin,” Sadina responded with all the sincerity of a half-starved rat.

Isaac figured he better start talking before the mushy stuff really got into full swing.

“You guys don’t need to worry about me,” he said, shifting his body to get more comfortable, yanking on the restraints to conquer a little more freedom. “I’m just spacing, trying not to think, trying not to worry about why we’ve been kidnapped by complete strangers twice in the last month. Kinda three times if you count Kletter and the boat.”

“Seems like you’re trying to not do a lot of things.” Sadina gave him a condescending frown. “I can tell the truth when it comes to you, Isaac. I don’t care if your eyes are closed, open, rolled up or peeking down, crying or stung from something caught in your eyeball—none of that matters. I can read you, I’ve always been able to read you, and I’ll be reading you to the day you have your last gasp and die. Now talk to me.”

Isaac found just enough of a bright spot inside to let a little laugh escape. “You got me, kid, you got me. Let’s see . . . what devious things am I thinking right now? Hmmmmm. What could it be? Let’s see . . .”

“Cut the horse crap, Isaac,” Trish said tersely. “Just tell us what’s on your mind about all this and we’ll do the same. We’ve gotta use our brains to get out of this nightmare.”

Isaac knew it was time to get serious, to stop deflecting with the usual avoidance mechanisms. He’d coped with the loss of his family; he could cope with this new, terrifying situation. He sat up, leaned his back against the metal frame of the headboard, pulling the chains attached to his feet to the very lengths of their restraint.

“Okay, let’s talk through this, step by step, and make a list of what we do know, what we definitely don’t know, and then things we may know, things we’re not certain about, guesses, whatever.”

“Alright,” Sadina said. “So . . . three columns . . . Know; Don’t Know; Might Know. How’s that? If only I had a pad and pencil.”