*****
When she woke the next day, her stomach rumbled. She swallowed over the dry lump in her throat. She sniffed. Was that—?
Her thought splintered, caught in the smell of actual food. Not the snack food she’d found, but real food. A cut of meat—the wafting spices made it impossible to tell what kind, but her stomach clenched in need—vegetables, fruit, and a piece of bread.
More water, delivered in a glass.
It had to be a hunger-induced hallucination. They’d never given her or the prisoners anything like all the food lying in front of her. She stuck her hand in to be sure it was real. No, it was warm. Her stomach growled. She would enjoy every bite, every explosion of food on her taste buds.
She tried to savor it—to make the food last. But it’d been too long and she couldn’t help herself; she inhaled it all.
Her full stomach lulled her into a dream-filled sleep.
“I don’t want to exchange one prison for another.”
She was back in the car, talking to the man. This time the memory felt different; she felt more in control of her abilities, the roll of her energy comforting and familiar—and it was definitely her memory.
“And I don’t want you imprisoned,” he replied.
“But you helped keep me there.” She threw the accusation at him. Anger boiled beneath her skin.
“Not because I wanted to. It’s not like I could be all ‘Hey, let’s let all the memory-bringers out!’ and retain my position. I was helping.”
“You have a funny way of doing that.”
“I got you out!” The small car made his shout loud and harsh.
Chapter Six
Elusive Memories (The Hunted #1) Page 10