Quietly.
She watched when his attention drifted.
She watched when he became impatient.
She noticed the moments when Roy was distracted.
She memorized sounds.
Turns.
Vehicle details.
Snatches of conversation.
Anything that might matter if she ever escaped.
She told herself that information was something Frank could not take from her.
As long as she could remember, she still possessed something.
But by the seventh day, remembering had become harder.
Fear was exhausting.
Hope was even more exhausting.
She began thinking about home.
Her mother.
Her father.
Her sisters.
She imagined her mother's face when she realized Maya had disappeared.
That image hurt more than anything else.
Maya had always believed her mother could solve almost any problem.
Calls.
Lists.
Names.
Numbers.
Persistence.
Her mother had an answer for everything.
But what happened when there was no answer?
What happened when the person you loved simply vanished?
Maya did not know.
So she kept watching.
And on the eleventh day, she found herself in Hollow Creek Diner.
The diner was ordinary.
That was what made it frightening.
People were eating.
Coffee was being poured.
Someone was laughing near the kitchen.
A couple shared a slice of pie by the window.
A man read a newspaper.
Everything was normal.
Everything except her.
Maya sat between Frank and Roy.
Frank's hand remained around her wrist.
Roy occupied the outside edge of the booth.
He had positioned himself between Maya and the aisle.
Maya understood the message.
There was nowhere to go.
She kept her eyes down.
Then the waitress approached.
Carol Whitfield.
Maya had seen her several times already.
Carol moved through the diner with the confidence of someone who knew every table and every regular customer.
But something changed when Carol looked at Maya.
Only for a moment.
Carol saw her hands.
Maya knew Carol had noticed.
She immediately lowered her eyes.
Then Carol walked away.
Maya watched her pick up the coffee pot.
The waitress crossed toward the window.
And placed something on an empty table.
A napkin.
Folded strangely.
Maya did not understand.
Not at first.
Then Carol walked away.
No glance.
No signal.
Nothing obvious.
Maya looked at the napkin again.
Triangle.
Fold.
Tuck.
Her heart began beating faster.
She looked around the diner.
Nobody seemed to have noticed.
Nobody except an older man sitting near the entrance.
He looked at the napkin.
Then at Carol.
Then he reached for his phone.