Time seemed to stand still for Elisa. The captivity smelled of mold, and the heavy silence was only broken by the distant sound of dripping water and the metallic friction of the door being opened and closed. Each beat of her heart reminded her of the two little ones she carried. They were her biggest concern, more than the ropes binding her wrists or the darkness surrounding her.
That afternoon, as the hooded man entered to leave a tray with bread and water, Elisa raised her voice, almost pleading:
Please... I need to know if my husband is okay... and my children...
The kidnapper didn't look at her directly. He just pushed the tray toward her and growled:
Eat and stay quiet.
The door was already closing when Elisa heard, through a narrow corridor, muffled voices. She moved as close as she could, ears attentive.
...the merciless one doesn't want mistakes. ... a male voice said.
It's already done. The problem is that the husband is moving around too much... another replied.
