Not once in her life had Nina Otis flitted about, plumping pillows, feeling her forehead, and straightening her covers – not when she’d had the chicken pox in first grade or when she’d had the swine flu in seventh. Her mother preferred to leave the actual mothering to whatever maid was on hand. Yet hover, fluff, and smooth was exactly what she did for thirty minutes before Rachel claimed she was exhausted and needed to sleep, even going so far as to close her eyes until they left.

She reopened them when the door swooshed open. Expecting Nick, she was surprised to see the auburn-haired officer who’d rescued her and beside her, a man who was head and shoulders taller. Shame that this woman had seen her suspended naked from the contraption washed through her, even though, in the back of her mind, she knew she had nothing to be ashamed of.

But it was the sight of the gun resting at the man’s hip that triggered her panic. Rachel ripped and pulled at the tape holding the IV in place as she tried to yank it from her arm. She knew nothing except that she had to get away, get out. She swung her feet over the side of her hospital bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness. She had to get to the window. She’d leap from it before she allowed herself to be taken back to that place.

‘Rachel! Rach! It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you, not ever again.’ The pain and urgency in her brother’s voice penetrated the overwhelming terror streaking through her, and as it did, she became keenly aware of a high-pitched wail, realizing it was her own only when Nick spoke softly as he gently lifted her legs back to the bed. ‘Breathe, Rach. You need to take a steady breath. Come on. With me. In, out. In, out. There you go. Let’s do it again.’

She forced herself to focus on nothing but the soothing tone of his voice. And when she was finally back in the hospital room, not in The Toybox, she blinked and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling, the whole while squeezing Nick’s hand as if it were her lifeline.

It was only minutes, not the hours it felt like, before the female detective stepped forward, introducing herself. ‘Hi, Rachel. I’m Detective Alyssa Wyatt. Do you remember me?’

Rachel’s chin dropped forward, but she didn’t trust herself to speak. Not yet.

‘Good.’ Without taking her eyes from Rachel, she pointed behind her to the man who still stood in the doorway, an odd expression on his face. ‘This is my partner, Detective Cord Roberts. We’re both here to help you, to try to find out what happened, what you remember. But if it’s easier for you, my partner can step out of the room. Would that make you feel better? Don’t be afraid to tell the truth.’

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, though she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. Nick cupped her chin and turned her face so she was focused on him. ‘You’re safe. These two, along with a lot of other people, have been searching nonstop for you. They won’t hurt you. Neither of them.’