Tangled

Chapter 228

Unshift 228

Unshift 228

228 Lisa: Rescue?

An odd scraping has me waking in the middle of the night, when even the faint light from the high-up window has disappeared.

The sounds are irregular, not at all patterned, which I've come to learn means that there's either a person or animal behind it. I hope it isn't a rat.

Sitting up, I strain my ears, past the thudding of my heart against my ribs. More odd sounds echo around me. A soft scuffle comes > from outside the wall where Marisol usually appears with my

meager meals. My breath catches in my throat.

That mysterious note comes to mind.

Could it be? After all this time, has someone finally come for me?

Hope surges through my veins, making me dizzy. I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. Slow, deep breaths that expand my ribs and reduce my pulse rate to a level that doesn't have me woozy with the rush of blood.

My muscles are weak, despite the squat and other stretches I work on daily, trying to keep myself as in shape as I can.

How long have I been in this hellhole? Days? Weeks? It's impossible to tell without windows or any sense of time passing. I'm not even sure my meals arrive daily; sometimes, I think it's two or three times a day. Other times, it's as though a day or two passes between them.

The cycle of night and day here seems different, too. Which is an

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228 Lisa: Rescue?

odd thing to think, but time just doesn't seem right.

The scraping sound comes again, closer this time. I take a tentative step forward, then another. My legs shake beneath me,

give out at any moment, and it's only three steps before the manacles

me where I am.

boundaries of

voice hoarse from disuse.

there?"

greets me. I hold my breath, straining to hear

I imagined it all, my mind playing cruel tricks after so much isolation. Disappointment threatens to crush me, but I refuse to give in to despair.

it's not a rescue? What if it's something worse? Images of my captor flash through my mind, but I shove them away. I haven't seen him since he first brought me here, and I

comes again, more insistent this time. It's as if someone's trying to pry something open. Could they be working on the mechanism that

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228 Lisa: Rescue?

Still, nothing.

of getting louder makes me cringe. What if I alert

better to be

To wait and see.

if I'm talking to God or whoever might be on the

on the wall in front of me as I sink to my knees. The cold seeps through

on that sound, willing it to be my

noises continue, sometimes loud, sometimes so faint I wonder if I'm imagining them. I dig my nails into

wall moves, sliding open just

backlit by dim light from the hallway beyond. I can't make out

voice

shrinks dramatically. A trick of the light, perhaps? But by the time he's standing in front of fod in a dark robe, he's perhaps as tall as my hip.

"Who are you?"

mind. Is your name Lisa Randall?” His words are snappy,

"Yes."

have an order for extraction. You

the

"I can't. I'm stuck."

I'm shocked to see a weathered face and short, spikey white

And so, so small.

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