The lake wasn’t big, but then again it wasn’t small. She could see the other end, a distance away. Nothing but nature surrounded the water in every direction. Looking down as she stood on the shore, her boots stood upon thousands of small smooth pebbles. Suddenly, she wondered if she could skip one. Remembering from childhood, she knew it needed to be smooth. It took her three tries, but she did it. It skipped four times, each hit going a little deeper, creating a slightly larger ring upon the water. The rings grew until they faded into the waves of the lake. For the first time in days she felt hungry.

Catherine never disappointed when it came to food. Claire found a sandwich—turkey or chicken she would soon find out—fruit in a small sealed cup, and some carrots. She sat at the water’s edge, broke off some of her bread and threw it in the water. The crumbs floated, rising and falling with the water. Suddenly, each crumb became surrounded by four or five minnows. They jumped and nibbled. Once they ate all the bread, Claire broke off more and fed them again. This time more minnows came to the feast.

The sounds of the lake exemplified peace. Claire closed her eyes and lost herself in the rhythm. Small waves lapping the earth made a consistent beat, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. The breeze rustling the leaves of the trees created gentle on again, off again reverberations. The sun moved steadily toward the other end of the lake. Claire knew that her new sunglasses were a smart accessory for her adventure. It wasn’t just the sun, but its reflection off the water. It sparkled and shined as prisms of light and color danced off the waves. She could sit and watch for hours. Occasionally there would be a splash and Claire would see the telltale rings left behind from a fish that jumped out of the lake only to go back down.

Just before Claire decided to check her watch, she saw, about one hundred yards down the shore from her, a doe and a fawn. They cautiously approached the lake’s edge. The doe kept a watchful eye on the surroundings while the fawn concentrated on drinking the cool clear water. She didn’t want to move or disturb them but the sun continued to lean toward the west.

With a heavy heart she looked at her watch. It was four thirty. It took forty-five minutes to get from the clearing to the house, but she didn’t know how long it took to get from the lake to the clearing. Tony wouldn’t be home, but Catherine had been so kind and supportive. She didn’t want to disappoint her either.

Slowly, she stood, having no idea how long she’d been sitting on the shore. Her muscles ached. She wondered if the cause could be sitting on the smooth pebbles or if it was the activities of Friday and Saturday night. When those memories entered her mind, she felt her stomach knot. Eight more days. She knew without a doubt this would be where they were spent.

  Survival is not so much about the body,

butratheritisaboutthetriumphofthehumanspirit. —Danita Vance

 Chapter 14

Wednesday arrived sooner than Claire hoped. Since the discovery of her lake oasis, she spent every day there and returned to the house by six each evening, as promised. Truly, the first night had been close. She even needed to run part of the way, but she made it. Now she knew the way and that it took an hour and forty-five minutes each direction.

As the week progressed, Claire took more supplies: a blanket to rest on, a book, and her lunch with water to drink. She even started wearing her bathing suit under her shorts so that she could sunbathe on the shore. This made her feel like a rebel. The bathing suit was a lot like underwear.

When she walked the path approaching the lake, she began to recognize the sights, sounds, and also the smells. It was a clean fresh aroma that penetrated deep into her lungs. As the days passed, she soaked in the serenity of this secret haven and her strength and resolve returned. When Tony left for Europe, she felt as low as she had felt since her arrival—actually, in her life. She wanted out. She would have been willing to die to accomplish that goal if only the means had been present.

Now she was thankful that it wasn’t. When he returned he would be the same, but she would be different. He hurt her—not just physically but also emotionally—down to her core. He had humiliated and seemed to enjoy humiliating her routinely since she arrived. Making her view herself in those situations was agony. Previously, she tried to put away the memories to create a separation between her daily life and her daily duties. To some extent, she’d been successful. This compartmentalization had facilitated her survival. His appalling videos documenting his brutal treatment and merciless instructions exposed her to herself. It broke her.

The lake, nature, sunshine, and freedom rejuvenated her. She felt like the Six-Million Dollar Man: stronger, faster, and better. She would gain sustenance and strength from the memories of the crystal waves shining and flashing in the sunlight. He could say, do, or make her do anything, anywhere and her mind would be hearing the leaves rustle, the birds sing, and the waves lap at the shore. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but she also knew the routine. There would be breaks when he had to travel and hopefully be gone, far away for long periods of time. She would live for those breaks until the time came when her debt was paid and she could be the one to leave.

Claire asked Catherine, but she hadn’t heard the time of his arrival. It didn’t surprise her. It was part of his game, a test. He wanted to know if she read his note, if she would be prepared for his return. She also knew that on the day of his arrival she shouldn’t leave the immediate grounds. She planned to be ready when he arrived and she was.

Claire ate lunch in her suite and sat on the sofa reading a book, a crime novel except it was funny, the fifth in a series. She didn’t know for sure how many there were, but she enjoyed reading them. She painstakingly chose her attire: white capris, a black and white top that accentuated her figure, and black sandals with a shorter heel. Her hair had lightened and grown quite long since March. She had it half up and half down, with the ends curled. Her makeup was flawless. If he didn’t show up until later, she had another outfit for then. She planned to meet him head-on. The miserable wretched woman he left was gone.

The door opened without warning. Claire’s heart skipped a beat, but she controlled her breathing and remained still and relaxed as she looked up from her book. He walked in and greeted her, “Good afternoon, Claire.”

Slowly, she placed her bookmark in her book, laid the book on the end table, and stood. Her smile radiated as pleasant a welcome as she could muster. Her mask was not only on, but also intact. “Good afternoon, Anthony.” Their eyes met. “It is nice to have you home. How was your trip?”

She didn’t walk toward him, but she stood straight, tall, and defiant. He approached her, not touching her, yet standing close and watching for her reaction. She stood her ground, smiling, waiting for his reply. Asking for a verbal answer to her question was not a good idea, so she remained silent and refused to drop eye contact.

“My trip was long. I am pleased with your greeting. Does this mean your temper tantrum from before my trip reached its conclusion?” His body only inches from hers, she could smell his cologne and feared if she inhaled too deeply her chest would touch his.

“Yes, I believe it has. I apologize for my behavior. It was childish and unnecessary.”

He grinned, wondering if she was sincere or playing him. His tone and words tried to enlist her motivation. “As I recall, a good deal of your behavior was far from childish.” He paused, no reaction. “But my memory could be failing me, it has been a long trip. I know how we could find out.” Another pause, no reaction. “Or review?”