Page 103 of The Hitchhikers

“Do you really believe that?”

Jenny paused. In the beginning, she’d had no doubt, and then she’d kept telling herself the same thing. He was just being protective. But now? Jenny wasn’t so sure.

“I won’t let him.”

“You haven’t been able to stop him from anything yet.”

That couldn’t be true. Jenny went over everything in her mind. Each time she’d balked, he’d soothed, until the line of what she found upsetting stretched further.

Alice shifted, rubbed her shoulder with her free hand. Jenny got off her bed and padded over to Alice. She slid the chair closer to the mattress. Now Alice could rest her arm.

“Thank you.”

Jenny made to turn back, but Alice spoke again.

“I know you didn’t mean for all this to happen. You didn’twantpeople to get hurt. But not meaning for it to happen isn’t the same as stopping it.”

Jenny’s breath caught in her throat. That wasn’t true. Was it? But maybe Alice was right. Jenny was in a raft with Simon going down a fast river and she had never once taken the paddle from him. She just floated along.

“You can let me go,” Alice said. “Say I escaped.”

“I can’t undo his knots.”

“The knife is on the desk.”

“Then he’ll know I let you go.”

“He won’t do anything to you.”

Jenny didn’t want to admit how scared she was that Simon would leave her. What would she do without him? The thought made her sick.

“I’ll stop trying to escape if you call so they can get help,”Alice said. “I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go as long as you want. Tom’s everything to me. The idea of him dying alone—” Alice’s broke on the last words, a strangled sound. She was crying.

Jenny couldn’t bear it. Her mother’s tears were different. They were to manipulate. Men, or women. It didn’t matter. She could use her tears at will. But Alice’s pain was real.

She looked again at Simon’s shape on the other bed. His breathing was heavy and measured, like he was sleeping deeply.

She’d need the key to the room. Where had he put it? She moved over to the desk and drifted her fingers over the surface. A plastic edge. Metal. The key.

She felt around on the floor for Simon’s jean shorts, slid her fingers into his pockets, and took out the coins, clenching them in her hand. She hoped there was a dime.

She padded softly to the door. She didn’t dare wear her sandals. She’d go barefoot to the pay phone she’d seen near the office. She turned, so that Alice could hear her whisper.

“I’ll try.”

The door was going to be hard.

She rolled the handle, feeling the click. She couldn’t remember if it had been loud when they came in. Did it squeak? She gave it a slow push, and it eased open. Simon was still snoring.

She stepped over the threshold, pulled the door closed behind her, and held her breath until it clicked, then panicked. What was she doing? Simon would be so mad at her.

It was too late now. She had to keep going.

The pavement under her bare feet was still warm from the day as she walked to the office. She hoped no one saw her sneaking about so late at night. She looked around. No lights were coming from any of the other teepee windows.

The office sign flashedVACANCY. She wondered if the officewas open. She couldn’t tell from the back. When she reached the pay phone, she checked her palm. Under the neon light of the hotel sign, she found a dime and deposited it. She pressed zero.

“Operator.”