Anne quickly realized that crying wouldn't help—no one was coming to her rescue. She had to find a way out herself.
"Think, Anne, think," she urged herself, scanning the room for an escape route. But there was none. The only way out was the door, which was locked from the outside.
She was completely trapped.
Despite the suffocating despair, she refused to surrender. "I won't let that man lay a finger on me," she vowed.
Desperately, she searched for anything she could use to defend herself, but the room offered nothing useful. Tears welled up in her eyes as helplessness threatened to consume her.
"No, no... I have to get out of here—I must," she whispered through her sobs.
"Hey, who are you? What do you think you're doing?" Patricia's frantic shriek rang through the house all of a sudden, making Anne freeze in place.
She turned sharply toward the door. "What's wrong?" She moved toward the door, pressing her ear against it.
