She said the only way he’d ever let her go was if she were dead, and she basically felt like she already was. She said she couldn’t live this way anymore, always in fear, looking over her shoulder every other second, scared of what was around every corner. She begged for my help, begged me to help her escape, to get away from him for good. And I agreed, as long as she did exactly as she was told. If she did, she’d be free of him forever. I gave her the supplies to start drawing her own blood and told her how to properly store it.
