“I can’t feel my foot.” He looked, without much interest, at the swelling coming up beneath the leg of my pajama pants.

Then he stood, and wiped his hand on his jeans, the hand that had held my chin, as though touching me had left something on it.

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he said.

“Today you’re going to learn your lesson.”

Chapter 3 — The Cage

They had already taken my phone, my ID, and my bank cards — days before, I understood now, the way you’d disarm someone before you did a thing to them you didn’t want reported.

And then, having left me on the floor, the three of them went about their evening.