If I called the police, they’d want to see the letter and then they’d know my secret. They’d know that I was held captive by the Minister for almost five years before escaping. And once they knew, the whole town would too. I tossed the letter in the trash on top of the cake and grabbed my car keys. I couldn’t be in this house right now. I drove around aimlessly, trying to clear my head, but nothing worked. I put the windows down and blasted Stevie Nicks, but I was still hopelessly miserable.
