Being blindfolded, and not having a clue where we’d started out from, there was no possible way I could determine where we were, let alone where he intended to take me. In the stillness, I spent my time trying to figure out ways to escape my predicament. Enslavement (whether it was called indentured servitude or otherwise) wasn’t legal, and that contract couldn’t have been either. Somehow, some way, I would find a way out of this mess. If he was planning to take me somewhere public, like I imagined he must be since he had bothered to put clothing on me, maybe I could talk to someone, tell them what was happening. Surely he wouldn’t have me walking around like I was. Surely someone would help. As it was, though, I was getting so hungry that I couldn’t really think very well. I hadn’t eaten anything in nearly twenty-four hours, maybe even longer than that. My stomach was grumbling loud enough that he had to hear it.
