The stranger had placed a wall clock in the room. At 7:59 am the door was unlocked but left unopened. Angie was sitting on the bed, wearing the clothes that the he had brought yesterday. They fit her perfectly, which surprised her. She went downstairs and the stranger was sitting on the breakfast table in a tank top and shorts. He had a towel around his neck and was breathing a bit rapidly. He had just worked out, Angie thought. She could not take her eyes off of his flesh. It looked hard and chiseled like it was sculpted by a master, manufactured in a workshop. His hair was wet and fell over his eyes. She could not believe that she was checking out her kidnapper. “Good,” the stranger said and Angie mentally shook herself. What is wrong with me? Angie sat down opposite him and started eating the breakfast, pouring milk over the cereals. This felt so weird, eating cereals with her kidnapper, in a remote cabin in the woods.
