When Lin fell asleep at last, she tumbled into awful dreams in which a captor whose face she could not see bound her arms and legs with long strips of cloth in different colors: a scarlet rope tied her ankles, while one wrist was bound with blue and the other with black. She cried out as her limbs were dragged painfully in different directions. “Hush,” said her captor, “do not struggle, and it will go easier for you.” The voice was Conor’s.
