Chapter 3

After not sleeping too well the previous night--and that's putting it mildly--it's no wonder I am bleary-eyed and not in the best mood when I wake up to Kevin moving about the apartment. Actually he's remarkably silent, as usual; I can't hear his tread. The only noises I do hear come from the utensils he uses making what looks like breakfast.

Again he brings it to me on a tray, and I stretch and sit up so he can put it down next to me on the cot. For a moment this feels ridiculously like back home, breakfast in bed on a lazy Sunday, but I quickly shake off that memory, concentrating on the present--and my future.

"Will you let me go today?"

My voice is still raspy from sleep, but I see from the way he stiffens that Kevin has understood me. For a moment he busies himself with rearranging the things on the tray, before he straightens, shaking his head.

I'm getting frustrated by his lack of response, but try to keep my tone friendly. "Why not? I won't tell anyone what I've seen, nor about meeting you, if that's what you're afraid of. Whatever happens outside Old Town is none of my concern." I pause, but again no reply. "What do you want of me, Kevin? Why are you keeping me here?"

His eyes remain fixed on the tray; I'm so fed up of his silence that I throw the tray to the floor, feeling cold satisfaction as glass and crockery shatter loudly, but it's not enough to vent my pent-up frustration. "Why won't you fucking tell me what's going on here? Oh I should just have let them get you!"

That finally gets his attention. He gives me a look, turns on his heels and retreats behind the other room's closed door from a further barrage of verbal vitriol I throw after him.

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Hours later, he still hasn't emerged again, and I'm almost going up the wall with boredom. I ate what little food hadn't spilled onto the floor and drank the water that had remained in the miraculously undamaged bottom half of the glass. I pushed all the shards and spilt food together in a pile, careful to get the small glass splinters especially--I didn't want to cut my feet on them. That was hours ago, and with nothing to do, my mind has a tendency to wander into dangerous directions... Regret about having shouted at Kevin, or further down the path it went last night. I groan, about ready to claw out my eyes. If only that would help!

I stop my pacing and lean against the bars, admitting defeat. For now. "Kevin? I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it... that I should have let them get you. You have to understand me... wouldn't you want to know what is waiting for you if you were in my position?" Silence, of course. I sigh. I really am sorry, a little at least. It's not like he didn't deserve it, but I let my temper get the better of me, which always means trouble--usually for me.

"Okay, if you want to keep me here, at least give me something to do! Can I have a book or something?" I have always been a voracious reader, and our house had its own library. The books were my sole escape when... I shake my head. Don't go there!

Nothing happens for a long time, and I've almost given up hope when the door opens to reveal Kevin with a pile of books in his arms. His face wears an almost-frown, matching his forbidding look as he hands the volumes to me in between the bars, one after the other:

'The Holy Bible'

Honey that's wasted on me, I think, but keep my mouth shut, not wanting to offend him again.

'The Agony and the Ecstasy'

'Oliver Twist'

'The Borgias'

'The Shoes of the Fisherman'

'Meditations Among the Tombs'

'Rembrandt's Eyes'

As I see the next book, my eyes widen.

'The Neverending Story'

"Oh... that was one of my favorite books when I was a child. I haven't read it in ages." My fingers brush his when he hands me the last book; I give him a hesitant smile. Kevin doesn't return the smile, but his eyes soften, his brow smoothing as if the frown had never been there. Then he quickly turns away and leaves the apartment.

I remain standing there, clutching the books against my chest.

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