in the hallway beyond. Maybe everyone had left the apartment, and she could just sneak out, get to a telephone and call Elizabet. . . .
Quietly, she opened 中古車 the door. A man she didn't recognize was seated on a folding chair by the bedroom door. He watched her silently as she walked to the bathroom. Inside, she checked the window. It was the same situatio 車買取 n as the bedroom, no way to climb down and too far to jump. She splashed some cold water on her face and walked past him again into the bedroom.
With the door carefully closed against the watchful eyes of the man in the hallway, she lay down on the bed and wondered how in the hell she was ­going to get herself out of this situation.
I want to go back to Elizabet's, she thought. I want to go home, I want to go home . . .
:Kayla, can you hear me? Kayla, child, where are you?:
She sat upright in bed. “Elizabet?”
:Where are you? Tell me where you are . . . :
The words tumbled from her, she didn't care if anyone outside the bedroom could hear. “Elizabet, they've locked me up in an apartment, I'm somewhere in the Valley, please, you have to get me out of here!”
:Kayla, where are you? Can you hear me?:
“Yes, I can! Please, Elizabet, they're going to keep me here forever, you have to help me! I can't get out, they won't let me leave, I'm locked in here—”
:Kayla, can you hear me? Kayla . . . :
Elizabet's voice was fainter now, moving further away.
“No! Elizabet, I'm here, please, help me! Don't go, don't leave me here! Elizabet!”
:Kayla, where are you—:
Elizabet's voice faded to silence, too distant to hear. Kayla curled up on the bed, one fist pressed against her mouth to keep her from sobbing out loud. “Elizabet, please, don't leave me here, please . . .”
The bedroom door opened, her impassive guard looking at her silently before closing the door again. She thought about trying to get past him and ­escape, maybe hit him with something and make a break for the door.
The first step, she thought, is to get organized. Make a plan. She angrily brushed the tears out of her eyes and began exploring the bedroom, opening every drawer in the dresser to look for anything useful. The top drawer was filled with pretty lingerie, all lace and silk. Beneath that were two drawers with jeans and folded blouses. Nothing useful.
The fourth drawer wasn't much better. It mostly held women's shoes: one pair of fancy heels and a couple pairs of che 引越し見積もり ap woven leather shoes. The jackpot was inside one of the shoe boxes: no shoes, just a small mirror, several razor blades, and a small bag of white powder. Kayla carefully picked up one of the razor blade 車 買取 s, ­replacing ev 中古車査定 erything else exactly the way it had been.
It's not much, but now I have a weapon, she thought, hiding it under the mattress of the bed. She checked the closet next, riffling through the dresses on plastic hangers and several cardboard boxes. She was hoping to find some extra bedsheets, envisioning herself tying sheets together to climb down from the window like a movie heroine. But the boxes only had some towels and notebooks written in Spanish inside. The sheets that were already on the bed wouldn't get her very far, though maybe if she ripped them into