CHAPTER TWELVE
I had three ways to leave.
Find Brooke. Escape. Or put them in a situation where they needed to let me go.
As I drank my orange juice, ate my toast, had a second glass of juice and then finally a cup of coffee, I savored every taste, because if worst came to worst, a hunger strike was a last resort. But even then… I ran through the scenarios. They could put a feeding tube in me.
I winced at the thought.
I hoped it didn’t come to that. I really didn’t. Another seizure, maybe? Jonah said it was rare and didn’t think I’d suffer one again, but I could fake it? Could I do something else where they’d be forced to take me to a hospital? Maybe. That was another last resort, so escape first.
I’d have to try. They kept telling me it was pointless, but I needed to find out for my
