Harper “Faith!” I called. “Fay! FAY!” “Harper,” there was a whisper, “Harper… I can hear… I can’t see you. Harp… I’m -- I’m sc-scared,” “Breathe,” I spoke. “I can’t see… get this off… please… someone take it off,” she screamed. “Fay!” I took a breath. I tried to move the chair, “Keep talking, I come to you.” I don’t know how we got to be strained and blindfolded. We must have fallen asleep or drugged. I couldn't tell if it was day or night. Everything was pitch black. I could hear Faith wheezing. She was having an asthma attack. I needed to calm her down. “I’m almost there,” I said, “Keep talking,” I encouraged as I followed her voice and
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