In Her Shadow Read Online Free PDF

frequent absence. He’s been on a mission, too, it seems—something that requires time spent away. And because of it, she’s gained a mirror.
    She took it on impulse after he left it on her bedside table yesterday then stashed it under her mattress. The thought pleases her. It’s nice to have something of her own. Plus, she’d gotten away with concealing it—a skill she was afraid she’d lost. Could a mirror help her escape? Perhaps not. But she must stay vigilant, ready for any opportunity.
    She imagines reaching for the mirror, smashing it into several pieces. Him, hovering over her from various angles. Her, reaching below for her self-concocted knife. A large glass shard in her hand, poised at his face, stomach or neck. Or maybe his eyes—end the gaze she loathes for good. If he lets her out again...
    Hopefully she would have enough strength—physically and emotionally—to follow through. If she manages to free herself from the basement she must be prepared to use whatever tools she can access in any necessary way.
    Once she steps out of this house, she will flee. She doesn’t know where she’ll go—how can she? She’s not even sure where she is. But those details are secondary. What matters most is her freedom. She’ll be gone, away, liberated like the birds in the sky and the deer that once led her to the cabin.
    She winces audibly as a sharp pain strikes her side. He rushes to her bedside; she must be more careful.
    “What’s wrong?” he asks, seeming more concerned than angry.
    “Nothing...I’m just thirsty. May I have some water?”
    As he walks to the freezer along the far wall, she has an idea. Quickly, she retrieves the mirror from beneath her bed, holds it so she can see his computer monitor. What is he looking at so intently?
    He returns—too quickly. She replaced the mirror just in time.
    He places an ice cube in her mouth. “You can have that for now.”
    Why an ice cube? It doesn’t matter. For now, she’s eager for hydration. She savors the frozen water as he checks her vitals, examining the images she glimpsed on his screen.
    They were pictures of a woman—not posed photos, certainly not portraits. They were snapshots, slices of life. A woman walking across the street, sitting at a table at a...restaurant? Standing in a group of people, holding food of some sort. She couldn’t see the face, but she’s fairly certain they all showed the same woman. If only she could examine them close up...
    Though innocent seeming, something bothers her about the photos, perhaps because they’re HIS pictures. Innocence isn’t his game. They remind her of something, perhaps a movie or television program she’s seen... Voyeuristic—that’s what they seemed.
    He has been, or is, watching someone.
    “Is the pain worse?” he asks.
    She shakes her head, though truthfully it’s much worse. She’s learned to rise above it most of the time, the way she does when he takes her to bed. If he deems her condition improved, he might let her out of the basement. Just...maybe.
    As he presses gently on her back and lower side, stabbing pain radiates through her body, so intense it takes all of her will to withhold a reaction. But she manages to, swallowing it deftly with her mind. It’s just a sensation. Good practice, she thinks. She may need to strengthen all of her skills to escape.
    He presses again, moving his fingers to various spots on her lower back and abdomen. Every area he touches feels painful and raw. She clenches her teeth, resisting the tenderness, trying to lure her thoughts away from her body. But when he touches a particular spot on her back, she gasps. It’s as though the glass shard she imagined has moved from her mind to inside of her, grating against her insides with its jagged edge.
    He grasps her forearms, one in each hand, using more gentleness than normal. But the vehemence in his eyes is stronger than ever. “I am going to save you.”
    Not ‘help,’ she notes. Not