Since they brought me here after the warehouse, I’ve been trying to figure out how to escape. But I’m a computer girl, not a Bond girl. Plus there’s only one way in and one way out of this room. And it’s locked from the outside. I’m going to have to have help. Who is going to help me is the real question. The only person I see every day—three times a day—is Antoni.
My plan is feeble, to say the least. It’s nothing more than making friends with a guy whose entire existence in my life consists of him opening the door, dropping a tray in here for me, and leaving without saying a word. I only know his name because someone called out, “Hey, Antoni!” when he was standing inside the cell this morning at breakfast, and he answered with a surly grunt.
Judging by the growling in my stomach, it’s a
