She didn’t want to breathe, but she had no idea how to stop doing that. She’d spent most of her time lying in bed and had gone out only once for food and bottled water. She tried to make sense of all this and to come up with a way to change it. So far, she hadn’t come up with anything. A knock on the door pulled Molly out of her sadness. She walked to the door, wiping her hands down her jeans thinking the maid had come to clean. “I don’t need maid service,” she said through the door. “Towels, Miss.” Blowing out a breath, Molly cracked the door open. She screamed just as Lancaster Elson pushed his way into the room and closed the door behind him. He was gross looking and he smelled bad, like he hadn’t showered in days. The stale stench of cigarette smoke clung to him. His clothes were ratty and torn, and his greasy hair was matted to his head. His teeth were crooked and yellow.
