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“I’m going to try to sit up: bear with me.” Taking a deep breath and holding it, I braced myself for the pain of bending my abdomen. I was no longer bleeding, but the air on my raw skin was enough to bring tears to my eyes. In one fast movement, I pulled myself up and swung my legs around, feeling for the floor in the darkness with my feet.

“Erin—” Adam started as I cried out.

“Just – give me – a minute,” I panted. It wasn’t quite the white-hot flashing pain of earlier, but it was enough. “So much for – the restorative – bloody – power of – meditation.” My heart pounded with the effort, but I managed to steady myself.

“Excuse me?” I could hear the amusement in his voice as he worked at the chains that bound my ankles together. I didn’t remember Émilie fastening those on – but I’d been here longer than I’d thought. There must have been some time missing from my memory.

“Let’s just say sitting and starving in the dark is overrated, as hobbies go.” I took a few deep breaths, letting my pulse find its way back to normal. “Thought I’d try to coax my brain into healing me faster, but my body pretty much told me to fuck off.”

“I see. And are you quite sure you can walk with these removed?”

I sighed. “I’ll manage. You might have to help me.” Admitting I needed help wasn’t exactly a forte of mine, and for a moment my heart filled with an ache for Jonathan – the only person I’d never minded admitting my weaknesses to. I immediately felt guilty that I’d not spared a thought for him since they’d captured me.

“Help or no help, my dear, I don’t know that we’re able to get out of here. There are at least three chains holding the door closed, by my estimation.” He sounded resigned to the matter.

“Didn’t you say you spoke to Tom a few minutes ago?”

“Minutes to you, perhaps. You have been unconscious a good while. I’m not sure what could have happened to him, actually.”

His voice tightened, the usual polish falling away. It must still be daylight, and Alistair and Émilie were presumably indoors, sleeping – so what could have kept Tom from coming to find us?

“Shit. Okay, well let’s focus on what wecando,” I said, pushing the worry aside. “We’ve got to get out of here. Help me look for something we can use.”

Trying not to bend at the waist, I got to the floor and swept my hands around, carefully. I could hear Adam doing the same, but my fingers met with nothing other than concrete and dirt.

“Would this do?” Adam’s voice came from my left, accompanied by a faint jangling.

“Émilie’s tools!” I exclaimed, instantly regretting raising my voice and dropping to a whisper. “Is the box open?”

“No, but it feels like the padlock has a dial.”

“Can you unlock it?”

“Perhaps if I could see it?” There was a scraping sound, and my eyes watered as Adam pushed his back against the door and the thinnest chink of light appeared – apparently Émilie hadn’t pushed the bolt across in her hurry to get indoors.

Adam held the box up to the light, angling it so he couldlook at it. The brightness stung my eyes after so long in the dark, and I turned my face away.

“Anything?” I asked after a minute or two, unable to bring myself to look back towards the light.

“I think—” Something clicked. “Ah, success.”

I dragged myself across the concrete floor, keeping my torso rigid. Each pull of my arms sent tremors through my flayed skin, but it was better than trying to crawl. The few feet might as well have been miles.

“What’s in it? She’s not stupid enough to leave a key, and all I’ve seen are—”

“Blades. Scalpels. A… screwdriver? Useful should we need a weapon upon her return, but of little use to us in opening the door. The hinges are on the other side,” he explained before I could ask.

The hope that had sparked momentarily died down again. I thought fast.

“Can we push it open any further?” I nodded my head towards the chink of light, knowing Adam could see me better than I could see him.

“Maybe two inches at the most.”

I nodded. “Okay. If you come around to my right, I’m going to try to get my wrist through the door; I think it might fit. If I can grab one of the chains—”

“You can pull the padlock through,” Adam finished, already moving out of the way. “It may be worth a try. Your hands are rather smaller than mine.”

I steeled myself, twisting my body, my arm at an awkwardangle. Pain seared through my torso. Fresh blood trickled down my side where the movement had reopened my wounds, but I gritted my teeth and kept going, determined this plan would work. “Three, two—”