I felt the gnawing ache in my stomach as I sat in the dimly lit shed, weak from hunger. I returned to cutting at the rope, but my movements were less methodical and more robotic as I grew tired.
It looked like midday, but I wasn’t sure if that was a whole day that had passed by, or perhaps more than that. Either way, Bruce hadn’t been back and I felt oddly less comfortable with that knowledge. I didn’t know how secluded we were, so there was a possibility that just anybody could walk in with even worse intentions without the threat of prying eyes.
My arms were growing sore from cutting, but I was prepared to push through it before the doors of the shed suddenly slid open. I jerked away from the shovel and maneuvered the chair so that I was facing Bruce as he walked in.
Of course, he
