Seven, Eight ... Gonna Stay Up Late (Rebekka Franck #4) - Plot & Excerpts
It was muffled and didn't sound much like "Camilla." She tried to call out her name again. Maybe she would react to the sound of her voice even if it wasn't understandable. But nothing. No reaction, no movement from the box next to her. Amalie narrowed her eyes while trying to see better. She could see the shape of her body, but she didn't seem to be moving. She called out again, sobbing from the pain in her throat. She had almost given up hope, thinking she had imagined it the first time, when she heard the groaning again. She felt relief go through her body. Camilla was alive. She had to be. Amalie tried to move in her box. Her legs and arms were hurting. The smell in the box was becoming unbearable. Amalie's pants were wet and disgusting, since the man never let her go to the bathroom. The stench was horrible and made it even harder for Amalie to breathe. She gasped for air while looking at Camilla's box, wishing she had been honest with her from the beginning, from the first kiss. I love you, Camilla, she thought to herself.
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