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"It's not about being bored. I want to go somewhere. I want to get out of this room."
She looked at me with a confused expression. "Where do you want to go? John's here. He can take you somewhere."
"Just never mind. I'll figure it out. I'm scared of being stir-crazy."
"You won't be, sweetheart. I have your TV all set up, and Stanley said you can get a few books on Amazon. He was so upset about what happened. He had John out in that driveway, filling all the holes."
My mom was nervous, and she was saying things that seemed incriminating now that I knew what was going on.
"Aww," I said, pretending to think Stanley's gesture was nice. It was difficult to think straight, let alone smile in front of my mother after I had been betrayed.
"John's been amazing. He drove us home last night, and then he stayed on the couch He was really worried about you. We all were."
"Thanks," I said, not knowing what else to say.
"Do you want me to tell him to come in here?"
"Who, John? No. No thank you. I'm not really up for visitors."
"I thought you were ready to get in the car and drive," she said with a teasing smile.
"I just need a minute to sort things out."
"Well, here, your medicine is on the nightstand. You need to take it before too long. I'll be right back with a bowl of oatmeal.You'll want to eat that and take it while there's still food on your stomach."
"Yes ma'am."
She walked toward the door. I was feeling brave, and I was mad, and I almost flippantly called her Claudia. She would know I had heard something, so I didn't do it. I chose to remain quiet. I could have told her that I had overheard everything and demanded that they let me go.But where was I going to go? How was I supposed to get anywhere, and where would I go?I had nothing. I had no choice but to stay. I would pretend I knew nothing.
I wanted Owen, and I hated to let him down, but at this point, it was a strategic move to keep quiet and let myself heal and plan. My mind was overrun with thoughts of getting out of there.
I heard my mom and John having a conversation in the hallway. He was asking about me like he was concerned. They were speaking loudly enough that I could hear them. He asked if he could come in the room, and she said that I was still waking up and that I hadn't even taken my pain pills.
All of their care and concern sounded like clanging symbols to me. I heard what I heard. They hurt me on purpose. Maybe they had been led astray by Stanley and maybe they thought it was the right thing to do, but it was inexcusable. I was not a Bible scholar, but I knew enough about God to realize that this was wrong. It was humiliating to think that my mother could be so misled. For the entire day, I worked out my feelings. I had memories of things Stanley did that were not Biblical at all.
I knew I had to find a way out, and I also knew I had to be patient in doing so. I was prepared to wait long enough to heal my leg and get myself walking again before making a move.
Chapter 11
Owen Atkinson
Three days later
Owen stared out of the windshield from the passenger's seat of Paul's truck. They were heading to Philipsburg. It was dinnertime on Thursday, and he was in the middle of a long week of shooting. He had just finished for the day, and Paul was kind enough to take him into town to talk to his wife.
Owen glanced at Paul with a regretful expression as they drove. "Do you mind if I take this call?"
"Not at all," Paul said adjusting his posture and messing with his air conditioning vent, occupying himself to give Owen privacy.
Owen put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Shep, what's up?"
"What are you doing?" Shep asked.
"I'm on the road, headed to the nearest town over here. I've been out in the woods, filming all day. I'm just getting service."
"I know. I tried to call you three times."
"Why? What's up?"
