Charlotte
They could have given me a blanket...
Not even a bucket...
Sheer indifference?
No...
This isn't straightforward callousness...
It's planned...
Calculated...
Why?
To humiliate me?
Perhaps...
The camera...
Is it only a spy?
Or more?
?
?
I'm supposed to be frightened...
They want a show...
Scared woman...
Helpless... Panicking...
Fuck them...
...
I'm not scared...
I'm not scared...
...
...
Then I gasp as, from the inside, Cara kicks and my stomach rebels.
*****
James
Three more days.
No word.
No progress.
No ransom demand.
Why?
I'm exhausted. Michael, Richard and Beth too. As for Mitch, she's run out of tears, I think. But strain has etched lines which frame her mouth and eyes.
Beth serves food, pressing a mug of soup into Mitch's hand. Then sitting by Michael, resting her head on his shoulder, she strokes the back of his hand.