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when you came to my room in the middle of the

night," I snapped. I no longer felt any compassion for

him. He had to bear responsibility for what he was doing, and one way or another, I was determined to

leave the house today.

"What? You had another dream? You poor

child. What you are going through." He shook his

head, pressing his lips together like a concerned

grandfather. "Oh well,, once we get something

substantial in your stomach--"

"I want my wheelchair. I'm going downstairs to

the phone,"

"Wheelchair? Oh no, Annie, not today. You

need at least one day's complete rest after what you've

gone through. Ill bring your breakfast to you in bed

today. Won't that be nice?"

"I WANT MY WHEELCHAIR!" I demanded

in the strongest voice I had ever turned on him. He

stared at me a moment and then started to walk away

as if he didn't hear me.

"TONY!"

He didn't turn back, and this time when he left

my room, he closed the door.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME LIKE A

PRISONER!" I got myself into a sitting position and

slowly brought my legs over the side of the bed. I did

feel weak and tired, but my determination was strong.

I would leave the room, even if I had to crawl out. I had to get help, get to Rye. I was sure he would help

me.

I started to lower my feet toward the floor when

Tony came bursting back in again, carrying my breakfast tray.