Four

Stephanie slowly resurfaced from a deep sleep and opened her eyes. Her mind was in a fog; she had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten here. Dim light leaked in through three small windows located high on the wall, but they did little to illuminate her surroundings. All she knew was that she wasn’t in her own bed, and she was freezing.

She wondered briefly if she might be dreaming, but the cold and the dank, moldy smell of the place were frighteningly real. Panic clutched at her, the need to get away. She sat up and felt around for something to cover herself so she’d stop shivering. But all she had was a single blanket, no sheets. The buttons of a cheap mattress dug into her.

The last thing she remembered was waking up to the sounds of a scuffle and a loud thud from the direction of the living room. David’s side of the bed was empty. She’d started to get up—and then what? Nothing.

A wave of drowsiness almost overwhelmed her, but she resisted. Forcing herself to swing her legs over the side of the bed, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and stood up. The sudden movement made her so dizzy she immediately sat back down. She tried again, this time easing herself up more slowly. Still off balance, she stumbled forward until she reached a wall. She leaned against it, using it for support as she moved forward in search of a light switch. Only when she stubbed her toe did she realize her feet were bare. No wonder she was so cold; the floor felt like cement, and it was freezing. She became more cautious, taking smaller steps to propel herself along. The wall was cold, too, with a rough texture. Her best guess was that she was in a basement. But what basement? Their apartment house just had underground parking. Questions ate at her, fueling her sense of panic. Where was she? How had she gotten here? All of her instincts told her that she had to flee before something terrible happened.

Just then she bumped into the bottom step of a staircase hidden in the shadows along the wall. A wave of nausea hit, and she felt as if she was going to pass out. She braced herself against the wall to keep from falling and stood there until the worst of it passed. The basement had grown a little lighter. Looking up, she could make out a door at the top of a steep flight of stairs. That door must be the way out of here. She put her foot on the bottom step and reached for the railing. As soon as she touched it, a spiderweb grabbed onto her hand and clung to it. She did her best to wipe it off on her nightgown. The dizziness returned, and she realized she was too wobbly, too depleted to make it up the stairs.

She reversed direction and worked her way back to the bed. It took everything in her to keep going. This effort made her panic recede. Several times, she thought she was going to faint. At last her shins bumped into the side of the bed. With a sense of relief, she lay down, pulled the blanket from around her shoulders, and used it to cover herself. The thin layer did nothing to warm her frozen feet. Despite her fear and discomfort, she instantly fell asleep.