The image of Parker’s burning skin taunts me. The smell of singed hair and blistered flesh tickles my nose. Too familiar. NO. What time of day is it? What day is it? I whip my head from side to side. There’s no clock on the beige walls and, of course, no window for sunlight or moonlight to peek through. I try to bring my hand up to scratch my nose, but it’s strapped down. They both are. I bang my ankles side to side against the metal rails. I can’t raise them more than three inches off the mattress. “Hello?” My voice comes out raspy. I take a deep breath, an excruciating jab of pain stopping me short. There has to be a button to push somewhere. No way are they dumb enough to leave me in here without a way to tell them I’m awake. My hands seek out a remote, a call button. Nothing. Okay, Penny, don’t panic. They’ve probably got cameras on you.
