Her eyes focused on mine, and she immediately started to cry.
“Sam?” she asked, her voice raspy.
“He’s alive and he’s safe, they’re treating him for the fever,” I promised her.
She squeezed my hand with the little strength she had.
“I tried, Mark, I swear to God I tried to stop them.”
“I know you did, I believe you.”
“No,” she said, her eyes wide with terror. “Listen to me, they wouldn’t let me use the phone, they wouldn’t let me call you.”
Officer Jenkins stepped into the room, looking at Amy with a soft, gentle expression.
“Amy, can you tell us what happened?”
She glanced toward the door, clearly terrified.
“Are they still right outside?”
“They can’t come anywhere near you,” I assured her.
She started to speak, telling us how they had rationed her food on the first day, claiming that eating too much would somehow lead to an infection in her stitches.
Then they moved on to the baby, insisting that her milk was contaminated because the baby cried, and when she tried to push back, they took her phone away.
“Your mother told me I was just trying to drive a wedge between you and your family, that I was a selfish woman who wanted to isolate you,” Amy sobbed.
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