![]() ![]() ![]() If psychology has taught us anything, it’s that everyone has a breaking point. You may not recognize him anymore, but you’ll definitely see him.” When he’s broken and subservient, you’ll see him. “We have him safely locked away as we reeducate him.” “That’s the thing about your husband, he always called a spade a spade.” “Did he also tell you that I’m dangerous?” ![]() “He said you are an unstable, diabolical, delusional man with megalomaniac tendencies.” “And what, exactly, did your late husband have to say?” Hatch, but yes, they used to call me that.” ![]() “Do you?” He sat down in the room’s lone chair, an amused grin blanketing his face. And the only way you’re ever going to get back there is if you no longer wish to return.” Secondly, you, my dear, are a long, long way from Idaho. “Surely you don’t mean that inept little police department in Meridian, Idaho. “I trust your accommodations are to your satisfaction.” “Hello, Sharon.” A buzzer went off and he typed in the required code. She was sitting back against the bars when Hatch walked into the room. Her room was only ten by ten, two-thirds of it occupied by her metal cage. Sharon Vey had counted the days of her captivity by scratching marks into the concrete floor of her cell. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |