40

FALLON There’s a deafening silence, punctuated only by his steady breathing, a sign that he’s drifted to sleep. But I can’t find that same peace. The handcuff digs into my skin, my arm forced awkwardly above my head, and after a while, the throbbing ache becomes unbearable. His shirt is drenched with blood from my shoulder, the clear plastic film covering nearly completely given away after my shower. My eyes fixate on the key resting mockingly on the bedside table. If I can just reach it... Twisting my body, I futilely attempt to stretch across him, but the cuff won’t give, and my arm and shoulder hurts when I stretch that far. Biting back frustration, I muster the courage to try to straddle his waist, careful not to wake him. My heart pounds as I lean forward, but the handcuff locked onto the middle beam of the headboard keeps it just out of reach. Stretching out, the metal digs painfully into my wrist. And then, just as my fingers graze the cool metal of the key, it vanishes. Snatche