She is a prisoner.
I hold my fingers up in a calling motion, trying to ask her if there's a way I can call her.
She shakes her head again sadly.
I stare at her, contemplating my next move. I don't know how to communicate with her from here.
But then she smiles at me, a radiant smile that makes her even more beautiful.
My god, she is purity itself with that smile.
I smile back at her, and her cheeks turn pink.
She presses her hand against the glass, and somehow, I know what she's trying to say. We don't even need words. It's like I can feel her soul tethering to mine across the divide between us.
She's sharing herself with me wordlessly, trusting me with the shine of her eyes and the grace of her smile.
And at that moment, I know I'm going to save her. I don't know what her story is, but I'm going to find out, and when I do, I'm going to make her mine.