But sleep never came. The sedatives the men gave me after they caught me in the woods had fully worn off, and panic-induced adrenaline was spiking through my body, leaving me wide awake and jittery.
After an hour or so, a rustling sound came from somewhere outside the door. I jerked up to a seated position with my back against the wall, bringing my knees to my chest and making myself as small as possible.
The door opened, and one of the men who’d chased me through the woods stepped inside. At least I assumed it was one of those men. It was hard to tell when they all wore dark clothing, hoods pulled over their hair, and masks. For all I knew, this could be a totally different guy I hadn’t encountered yet.
A million questions bubbled to my lips, but I was too scared to voice a single one of them. Instead I sat frozen with fear, staring up at the masked man.
He held up a tablet with a typed message on the screen. You’re finally awake.
I tipped my head forward in a small nod, too scared to say ‘No shit, Sherlock’ like I really wanted to.
The man turned the tablet back around and typed out another message. Don’t try anything funny. There’s no way out of here except the door, and you won’t be able to get that open. Even if you try, you won’t get away with it. You’re being watched at all times.
He gestured to the far left corner of the room, just under the padded ceiling. I looked up at it, brows furrowing. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but there was a tiny black device stuck up there.
“Surveillance camera,” I muttered.
The masked man nodded.
“What’s going to happen to me here?” I asked, lifting my chin again.
Up to you, was the reply.
“How is it up to me?” I asked, heat rising in my cheeks. “You kidnapped me and now you’re keeping me in some sort of prison with no chance of escape. Nothing here is up to me!”
The man didn’t type anything else. He just stared silently.
I straightened my shoulders as something occurred to me. “You won’t get away with this, you know,” I said, clenching my jaw. “You and the other men screwed up.”
He cocked his head to one side, as if he were questioning me.
“I tried calling my mom a ton of times just before you chased me down, and I left her a voicemail saying I needed to talk to her as soon as possible,” I went on. “When she tries to call me back and can’t get hold of me, she’ll get worried. Then she’ll contact the school and the police, and they’ll send people out to look for me. Maybe they already have. They could’ve looked at CCTV footage from the RFA campus by now, and there could even be a manhunt underway. For all you know, they were onto you before you even left the campus, and they’re going to bust in here any second now!”
The masked man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a phone. My phone. He switched the screen on—it seemed as if some tech whiz had disabled the usual unlock code—and pressed a couple of things. Then he held up the phone to show me a message thread between me and my mom.
Me - 9:45 pm:Hey! Been trying to call. Really wanted to chat and let you know how things are going here before I switch my phone off and disappear into a giant study bubble this weekend. I have about twenty different papers to write so I really need to concentrate :( Anyway, I guess you’re busy with work, so I’ll talk to you another time. Love you xoxo
PS - If you can’t get hold of me anytime soon, you know why. Study, study, study. Bleh.
Mom - 10:37 pm: Hey baby, I’m so sorry I missed your calls. I was working late. I’d love to chat but I understand how busy you are, so I’ll leave you alone for the weekend. Good luck with all the assignments. I’ll call you on Sunday night and you can tell me all about them. Love you and so proud of you!
I gritted my teeth as I read through the texts. “You didn’t do a very good job of impersonating me,” I muttered. “I never put ‘xoxo’ at the end of messages to my mom. And I never say ‘bleh’.”
The masked man shrugged and typed out another message on his tablet. She bought it. That’s all that matters.
“What about my friends?” I said, eyes narrowing. “I told them I’d hang out with them this weekend. If they can’t reach me, they’ll probably start to worry.”
The man shook his head and showed me another message thread on my phone.
Trina – 9:12 pm: Hey, how are you feeling now? Cramps any better yet? Poor thing.
Trina – 9:13 pm:Oh, also, let me know if you still want to meet me and Adam at Café Seven tomorrow for pancakes!
Me – 10:04 pm: Hey, not doing so great. Cramps suck. I’ll probably have to take a raincheck on those pancakes. Sorry :(
Trina – 10:08 pm: Not your fault. I know your pain, seriously. Hope you have a hot water bottle in your dorm. They always help me. Have some chocolate too! I read that the magnesium can help.
Me – 10:11 pm: Ooh yes, good idea. Any excuse for chocolate lol.