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Still a captive

About one hour later, the door suddenly swung open and the cop who had led her in earlier, stepped into the room.

Racheal quickly bounded up from the floor where she had been crumpled crying. Has someone come to save her? Was it over?

The cop moved to the side and ushered in a younger looking cop who had a bag of fast food in hand.

She broke down again in tears.

Food? What did she need food for? She wanted to go back home, to her cosy quarters at the villa no matter how oppressive the walls seemed sometimes.

The young cop placed the bag and what looked like a cup of iced tea on the table. Both cops hurriedly left, shutting the door behind them.

She looked at the greasy bag in disgust and moved it to the far end of the table before she sat down.

She was still in her seat when she heard the voice again. As usual, it was a completely new voice.

“Are you ready to speak now?”

“There is nothing to say.” She responded tiredly.

There was silence and she thought they had left, when the
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