When Dorothy woke up, she couldn't stretch.  She couldn't even open her mouth.  She opened her eyes wide.  She was not in the room she'd fallen asleep in.  The room didn't even have any windows.  It was dimly lit, in front of the bed was an old dresser with an antique mirror, and that was the only other furniture.  Dorothy had terrible cramps in her thighs and lower back.  Each of her hands was cuffed to a post and her feet were strapped to the footboard.  She was confused and terrified.  She just knew Rashid had done this.  That bastard was dangerous. She at least tried to move around and see if there was anything she could reach for (though she didn't know how she'd reach for it), or some weakness in the cuffs.  There weren't any obvious ones.  She panicked. How long had she been in there? She expected Rashid to come through the door at anytime, just like in the movies.  The falseness of the comfort was too soon realized—she lay there for minutes, then half hour, and then hours began to pass. She was getting more and more uncomfortable, hunger and the need to eliminate set in.  She sighed heavily and twisted her body in an attempt to stretch.  She still hadn't opened her mouth.  It felt like two or so hours had passed.  Rashid finally came in some minutes later with a mug and a straw sticking out of it.  He smiled his gentlemanly smile.

            "Feeling well?"  Dorothy didn't know what to say or moan or what have you.  She was utterly shocked that a man that seemed so devoted to Quatre had done this to anyone, dear to Quatre or not.  She looked at him with astonished eyes and fearful emotions.

            "I certainly hope you're hungry," Rashid leaned over and pulled off a tiny piece of the duct tape that held her mouth shut off in the middle of her lips.  He poked the straw into her mouth.  She didn't sip.

            "Come now, I just made it for you this morning," he mused.

            And it's probably seasoned with white oleander, she thought.

            "Come on, Dorothy, you've got to keep your strength up.  Quatre won't be happy if he finds out you didn't eat well while he was gone."  Dorothy still didn't sip.

            "How about if I taste a little first?" Dorothy didn't respond, she just looked at him with the same astonished expression.  Rashid put the mug to his lips and she heard him take a big gulp.  He offered it to her again.  She took a long sip and stopped.  He pulled the straw away.  She spit the broth in his face as hard as she could through the straw-sized opening.  He jumped up, spilling the hot liquid all over her, and yelled,

            "Fine! Don't eat! You will starve before I feed you again!"  he slapped on another layer of duct tape before he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.  She held her breath and listened hard for his footsteps.  They were going away, in the direction her head was facing, possibly up a flight of stairs.  She didn't know what good that knowledge was right then, but she prayed for the opportunity to use it.  She heard a squeak and something prickle her skin.  She looked down and saw a rat chewing through her shirt, trying to get all the broth it could.  She screeched and heaved her self up, tossing the rat onto the dresser.  She breathed hard.  She felt something moving around underneath her.  She elevated her back and another rat scurried from beneath her.  She tried to push it off the bed, but it almost bit her so the prayed it would just leave.

            Down in the hospital psychiatric ward, Ambassador Peacecraft called for Quatre Winner.  He'd gotten better in the two days since she'd last seen him.  He picked up the phone in his room.

            "Hello?" he showed a hint of cheer.

            "Quatre?"

            "Hey Lena," he beamed, "how are you?"

            "Just fine. You sound so much better!"

            "Thanks. I feel a lot better."

            "Is Dorothy around?"

            "No," Quatre's tone saddened.

            "Where is she?"

            "At my place I guess.  She didn't come visit me today and it's getting late."

            "I wonder what's keeping her."

            "I don't know.  She didn't call me either."

            "I'm sorry. Why don't you call her?"

            "I can't make any out going calls while I'm in the ward."

            "Hm. You want me to call?"

            "If you want," Quatre said, hoping she would.

            "I don't really have time right now, but I will later tonight or tomorrow."

            "Ok, Lena, thanks." Quatre hung up the phone.  At least Rashid won't hurt Dorothy. She doesn't play that.  She goes to the police. Unlike me.

            Dorothy stayed awake as long as she could but eventually slipped into involuntary slumber.  She woke up to a rat nibbling on her ear.

            "MMM!!!" she screamed, snapping her head around.  The rat fell off the side.  She breathed hard and almost started crying.  Rashid came in.  He didn't have any food, which was really beginning to need, all he had was a sour expression.  He started to undress.

            "I for give you, but I cannot let you go unpunished." He said simply. He positioned himself on top of her.  Dorothy struggled underneath him helplessly, wailing for help through her nose and throat.  Rashid unbuttoned Dorothy's shorts.  She screamed and cried and wailed as he punished her.