How long will we be trapped here, anyway? What if the men don’t come back for days? Will we starve?
For a minute the room seems to spin.
No way. We can’t be stuck here. What are we going to do?
Shimmy looks so wide-eyed and frightened, it makes me snap out of my own shock and take charge of the situation, like he’s a lost kitten who needs taking care of. “Okay, we’re going to be fine. We’ll find a way out. Let’s just look around.”
We try the door again, then the window. The bars are solid; we can’t get out that way. There’s a small bathroom off the bedroom, but it has no windows.
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