Samuel Johnson was fantasizing about a brilliant future, and an incongruous dopey smile spread across his face. He was so happy that he completely failed to notice Amanda Smith's hand, slightly clenched at her side.
Her pale fingertips were almost digging into her flesh, and heaven knows how much strength she had to restrain to suppress the urge to flee, to sit beside Samuel Johnson.
The fear she held for this man was deeply rooted in the depths of her soul; the closer she got to him, the more she couldn't control the impulse to run away.
But she had promised Mrs. Johnson that she would cheer Samuel up a bit. If Samuel wanted her to eat, she would eat more. If Samuel wanted her to watch TV with him, she'd have to endure her fear and sit beside him.
As long as she complied a little, it was just enduring this one day. Tomorrow, she could leave this place forever. She believed that Evan Willow would find a way to ensure she'd never appear before him again.