My shoulders burned as I tried to wiggle even an inch of space into the restraints at my wrists, but nothing I tried worked. When I inevitably collapsed onto the floor, that wasn’t any better because now my entire body was scratched from the straw.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I considered that he really did plan to leave me here like this for eight hours. Possibly even more. And there was no way I could endure it.

So out of desperation, I tried everything I could think of to loosen my restraints. I rubbed them against the wooden edge of the wall post, but that only resulted in raw skin. I tried to pull them up far enough behind me to use the metal hook as a tool to untether them, but I wasn’t tall enough for that. After another two hours passed, I began to cry in earnest. And then I had an idea.

I might not be able to get the restraints off my wrists, but I had a much better chance at severing the lead. It took me what I estimated to be another two hours to saw it against the edge of the wall, nearly strangling myself in the process. But eventually, the last little bit of leather broke free, and relief breathed new life into me. That relief was quickly swallowed by the realization that it had taken me much longer just to accomplish that.

Now, peeking out through the bars of the stall door, I can see the sun will probably be rising soon. Which means all my efforts may have been in vain. And then something occurs to me. Paolo often comes down here in the early mornings to check on the horses before I even get to the stables. I know because I’ve seen him here at times when I arrive.

Regardless, my mind is made up. No matter who comes through that door this morning, I’m getting the fuck out of here.

I sit quietly by the wall and wait, listening as the birds began to chirp and sunlight gradually spills into the stables. It’s the weekend, which means Judge will probably sleep later than usual, and Paolo might not show up as early as I hope either. But just as I’m about to nod off from exhaustion, I hear the sound of his voice as he greets Temperance in the stall closest to the entrance.

I breathe a sigh of relief and crouch down, kicking my bare foot against the wood to draw attention to the stall.

There’s a moment of silence before Paolo calls out, “Is someone there?”