Her head was pounding and her mouth felt dry and raspy. She opened her eyes, trying to remember where she was and what had happened. Her vision adjusted to the dim light of the room and she scanned it for any clues to her location. Shelves lined the wall from floor to ceiling and they were crammed with books and ledgers. There were crates in the corner, though she couldn’t see what they contained. There were no windows and only one door. Del was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room and her wrists were bound to it by thick rope. She strained against the bindings, but the knots were tight and the rope dug into her skin. Wincing, she relaxed her arms. She was afraid, very afraid, but she willfully slowed her breathing and tried to calm down. She needed to remember what happened, to figure out where she was and how she could escape. Panicking would do nothing but cloud her mind and worsen her circumstances. She must be calm and logical. She tried to reconstruct the events leading up to her present predicament.
