“Why?” I try to say, but nothing but a garbled groan slips past my lips. “Why?” I try again, but the person who’s trapped me doesn’t respond, just slams the refrigerator door shut and, with a disparaging glance at my shaking body, steps over me to the single door of the cabin and throws it open.

A blast of wintry air rushes inside, a few flakes of snow following. No, I try to scream. “Nnnnnneeeeeooo.” Again, the sound is a cry of despair, the single word unclear.

But my captor understands.

Pauses for the briefest of seconds.

Then steps through the door and yanks it shut.

Thud!

I try to crawl toward it.

Click!

The lock’s engaged.

Don’t leave me, I silently scream, my mouth opening and shutting like a just-landed bass gasping for air. How can you do this? You, who swore you loved me? How can you leave me?

The betrayal is gut-wrenching, sitting sour in my stomach as I make another attempt to stop my muscles from shaking. Pull yourself together! Do it!

I try to stand, manage to get my feet under me, but the soles of my shoes slide, and my body flops to the floor again. All I can do is scoot, limbs palsied as I push my way to the door.

Over the frantic beating of my heart, I hear boots crunching on icy snow and the inevitable beep of a vehicle’s keyless lock responding to a push of a button on a remote.

Don’t do this!

I reach up, take a swipe at the door handle, and fail to clutch it.

With all the effort I can muster, I try again, this time connecting, my muscles finally responding. Groaning, I haul myself to my feet, and I slump against the door frame.

An engine revs as I reach for the door handle again, grasp it, and find it locked. Unmoving. As it always is. Locked tight.

Damn it.

Tears spring to my eyes as I hurl my body to the ladder and teeter for a second. My muscles quiver, and I grit my teeth, make a false start, and slide a bit. Locking my jaw against my chattering teeth, I grip harder, then slowly, rung by rung, climb until I can just peer over the windowsill of one of the five twelve-inch-square windows strung near the ceiling of the wall with the door.

Through the glass I see outside. The snowy landscape is stark in the small clearing, rimmed by tall firs, branches heavy and laden with ice and snow. In the clearing, I see the car, headlights glowing, cones of light illuminating the lane as it drives away.

My heart sinks.

Don’t let it! The person who did this doesn’t deserve your sadness. Get mad, damn it.