Loraine learned to move differently.
Not quickly.
Not bravely.
Carefully.
She learned where Jason looked—and where he didn't.
The First Opening
It started with the laundry room.
Jason never followed her there. He trusted the walls. Trusted the cameras. Trusted the house to keep her contained.
She noticed the small window above the sink first.
High. Narrow. Dusty.
But it opened.
Just a little.
That night, while folding clothes under the camera's blind spot, she pressed her fingers to the glass.
Cold air rushed in.
Her heart leapt painfully.
Freedom smelled like rain and metal.
She didn't climb out.
She wasn't ready.
Instead, she tore a strip from an old sheet and tied it loosely to the latch—something that would move if the wind blew.
Something someone watching from outside might notice.
Ethan Watches
Ethan sat in his car two streets away, eyes fixed on the dark silhouette of the estate.
He'd learned quickly—this wasn't a place you approached openly.
Security was tight. Cameras everywhere.
But the house itself…
It breathed.
Then he saw it.
A white strip fluttering briefly at a high window.
His chest tightened.
"That's her," he whispered.
Jason Feels It
Jason felt the shift before he saw the evidence.
He always did.
Loraine was quieter than usual that evening—but not empty.
Focused.
He watched her eat. Watched her hands.
They trembled.
"Are you cold?" he asked calmly.
She shook her head.
"Then why are you shaking?"
She forced herself to answer. "I don't know."
Jason stared at her for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
That smile was never a good sign.
Testing the Cage
The next day, Jason changed things.
He didn't announce it.
The laundry room door was locked.
The window sealed.
"You don't need to go in there anymore," he said casually.
Her stomach dropped.
He knew.
Not everything—but enough.
The Second Signal
That night, she did something riskier.
In the bathroom mirror, she used steam from the shower to write one word with her finger.
HELP
She wiped it away immediately.
But condensation always lingered.
And mirrors reflected light.
Outside, Ethan raised his binoculars—and froze.
He exhaled sharply, relief and fear colliding in his chest.
"She's alive," he murmured. "And she's asking."
Jason Tightens His Hold
Jason noticed her exhaustion.
"You're pushing yourself," he said gently, guiding her back to the bedroom.
She didn't resist.
That worried him.
He sat beside her on the bed.
"You don't need to ask for help," he said softly.
Her breath caught.
"I'm right here."
She looked at him then—really looked.
And for the first time since regaining her voice, she spoke clearly.
"You don't feel like help anymore."
Silence exploded between them.
Jason stood.
His voice was calm—but sharp.
"Be careful."
The Promise Ethan Makes
That night, Ethan made his own decision.
He contacted the nurse again.
He contacted a lawyer.
And finally—someone who owed him a favor.
"I need eyes inside that house," he said. "Quiet ones."
He looked back toward the dark building.
"I'm coming for you," he whispered. "Just hold on."
The End of Safety
Jason locked the bedroom door that night.
Not angrily.
Methodically.
"You're restless," he said from the other side. "Rest."
Loraine sat on the bed, heart racing.
She had been seen.
She had been answered.
And now—
The cage knew she wanted out.
Questions That Cut Like Glass
How long before Jason confronts her directly?
Will Ethan reach her before the cage closes completely?
How much resistance can she show without losing everything?
And when a monster realizes hope has entered the room—
what does he do to crush it?