She cups my chin with her thumb and forefinger, then runs her thumb over my lower lip. “I took the liberty of striking camp for you,” she says casually.
This makes me look up at her again, but this time she likes what she sees in my eyes, and chuckles at it. “You were counting on that campsite to get you rescued, weren’t you? You thought that some hunter or backpacker would see your abandoned belongings and report them. Some of your gear might be identified. Forget that dream. I didn’t leave a gum wrapper behind. The next hard rain will wash the ashes from your campfire into the ground. Your bread crumb trail has been eaten by the squirrels.”
I look down again, denying her the pleasure of my despair. s**t! This looks bad. She presses the advantage.
“I intend to break you. At some time i
