statement was only a sure indicator that I should be afraid. And I was. I could get nothing from his thoughts but a vague sense of frustration and worry. That alone was a little frightening. I was used to being able to “hear” the noise of human thoughts, even if I couldn’t always pick out specifics.
I heard his boots crunch on the broken glass as he shifted position. “If we’re going to get you out of here, we don’t have much time.” The urgency in his voice finally registered with me. He was truly worried. Why? Surely, if he waited long enough, more guards would arrive to help him. He had nothing to fear.
I remained still, waiting, expecting him to call for assistance or charge in after me.
Instead he sighed. “I have a little girl, not much older than you. She’s been sick for a long time. She hates being in the hospital, being poked and prodded. I can only imagine what it must be like for you. It’s not right.”
I could feel his outrage along with his love for his daughter, mixed with weariness and worry. Given how little I’d sensed from him before, he felt very strongly about both topics: my captivity and his daughter.
“But I think I can get you outside, if you’ll trust me,” he said.
I looked up sharply. He’d said the magic word. Well, the one that was magic to me. Clutching my arm to my chest, I scooted closer to the edge of the cot and peered out at him. “Outside?”
He nodded slowly, as if sudden movement might frighten me away. “Do you want to go outside?”
That kind of direct question was usually a test. I eyed him speculatively. “Dr. Jacobs would not want me to go.”
The man didn’t wave away my words or tell me that I was wrong. Instead he just looked at me. “What do you want to do?”
That was, as far as I could remember, the first time anyone had ever asked me that question. Normally, someone was right there telling me what to do. Issuing commands over the intercom.
But this man, he was waiting at the edge of the room for my answer. He wasn’t charging in to drag me off, or shouting at me to do as I was told. He was asking me. I didn’t realize until years later why that was struck me so deeply—my father was the first one to treat me as a person .
Half fearing that this was an elaborate trick, I stood up, my insides quivering with fear and anticipation. “I want to go. Outside.”
He held out his hand for me. “Then let’s go.”
I hesitated for a moment, trying to think it through. Finally, the voice that had been shouting at me earlier kicked in. Someone will come for you sooner or later. And this one, he defied Dr. Jacobs. Just like you. GO. NOW!
And, my logical side rationalized, even if it did turn out to be a trick, I would likely be safer with him than any of the others who would come later.
So I left the safety of my tipped-over cot—my known world—to take his hand. It was the best decision I’d ever made. Except, perhaps, refusing to cooperate with Dr. Jacobs in the first place, but even that had had unforeseen consequences I still struggled with.
I was lucky that my father had chosen to associate his daughter with the small strange-looking child I’d been and taken the risk to save me. And I couldn’t repay his leap of faith by taking more unnecessary chances. Not for Jenna this morning, and definitely not with Zane. His plan, tempting though it was, involved too many variables, too many opportunities for the situation to spin out of control.
So I would have to continue on as I was.
The disappointment tasted bitter, and I tried to remember that at breakfast, only an hour ago, I’d been relieved to find that my cover remained intact.
The phone in the side pocket of my backpack buzzed suddenly, startling me. I waited for Miss Lenosi to face the whiteboard and then reached down and pulled it free, to find a half dozen new text messages from Jenna. I must have missed them with all the noise in the hall.
You’re coming, right?
I’m
I heard his boots crunch on the broken glass as he shifted position. “If we’re going to get you out of here, we don’t have much time.” The urgency in his voice finally registered with me. He was truly worried. Why? Surely, if he waited long enough, more guards would arrive to help him. He had nothing to fear.
I remained still, waiting, expecting him to call for assistance or charge in after me.
Instead he sighed. “I have a little girl, not much older than you. She’s been sick for a long time. She hates being in the hospital, being poked and prodded. I can only imagine what it must be like for you. It’s not right.”
I could feel his outrage along with his love for his daughter, mixed with weariness and worry. Given how little I’d sensed from him before, he felt very strongly about both topics: my captivity and his daughter.
“But I think I can get you outside, if you’ll trust me,” he said.
I looked up sharply. He’d said the magic word. Well, the one that was magic to me. Clutching my arm to my chest, I scooted closer to the edge of the cot and peered out at him. “Outside?”
He nodded slowly, as if sudden movement might frighten me away. “Do you want to go outside?”
That kind of direct question was usually a test. I eyed him speculatively. “Dr. Jacobs would not want me to go.”
The man didn’t wave away my words or tell me that I was wrong. Instead he just looked at me. “What do you want to do?”
That was, as far as I could remember, the first time anyone had ever asked me that question. Normally, someone was right there telling me what to do. Issuing commands over the intercom.
But this man, he was waiting at the edge of the room for my answer. He wasn’t charging in to drag me off, or shouting at me to do as I was told. He was asking me. I didn’t realize until years later why that was struck me so deeply—my father was the first one to treat me as a person .
Half fearing that this was an elaborate trick, I stood up, my insides quivering with fear and anticipation. “I want to go. Outside.”
He held out his hand for me. “Then let’s go.”
I hesitated for a moment, trying to think it through. Finally, the voice that had been shouting at me earlier kicked in. Someone will come for you sooner or later. And this one, he defied Dr. Jacobs. Just like you. GO. NOW!
And, my logical side rationalized, even if it did turn out to be a trick, I would likely be safer with him than any of the others who would come later.
So I left the safety of my tipped-over cot—my known world—to take his hand. It was the best decision I’d ever made. Except, perhaps, refusing to cooperate with Dr. Jacobs in the first place, but even that had had unforeseen consequences I still struggled with.
I was lucky that my father had chosen to associate his daughter with the small strange-looking child I’d been and taken the risk to save me. And I couldn’t repay his leap of faith by taking more unnecessary chances. Not for Jenna this morning, and definitely not with Zane. His plan, tempting though it was, involved too many variables, too many opportunities for the situation to spin out of control.
So I would have to continue on as I was.
The disappointment tasted bitter, and I tried to remember that at breakfast, only an hour ago, I’d been relieved to find that my cover remained intact.
The phone in the side pocket of my backpack buzzed suddenly, startling me. I waited for Miss Lenosi to face the whiteboard and then reached down and pulled it free, to find a half dozen new text messages from Jenna. I must have missed them with all the noise in the hall.
You’re coming, right?
I’m
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