Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. She couldn't afford to fall apart now. Not here. Not when they were watching. Not when her mother's life was on the line. She needed to think, needed to move, but fear had wrapped itself around her lungs.
Her gaze darted toward a nurse's station where two staff members chatted quietly, their laughter soft and harmless. For a fleeting second, she almost ran to them—almost screamed that she was being followed, that her life was in danger. But the memory of the knife flashing before her eyes stopped her cold.
She swallowed hard. Her hands shook as she pulled out a small notepad and pen from her purse. The edges of the paper were already damp from her sweating palms. You will write exactly what I tell you to, the man's voice had said. The command still lived in her head.
Her handwriting trembled as she scribbled the words they'd dictated to her earlier.
