I opened my eyes, and couldn’t quite focus on my surroundings. I was lying on a bunk in a richly appointed private compartment. The man and woman sat together, watching me from the opposite side of the compartment.

The woman moved quickly to support me as I tried to sit up. My head pounded, and I felt nauseous.

She picked up a glass of water and several aspirin and handed them to me. “Take these, Ekatarina.”

I swallowed the pills and drank. “I need to pee,” I said.

“The lavatory is here.” She indicated a narrow door. “There’s also a shower and clean clothing. There’ll be a warm meal here for you when you’ve tidied up. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve never felt this bad.”

The man muttered quietly to himself. “I’m sure.”

The woman assisted me into the lavatory, and I locked the door when she left. I looked into my mind, not really wanting but needing to know. The wound was ugly, but had begun to mend.

Are you there?

Yes, said my-voice-but-not-me.

You told me to find a safe place. Is this it?

No.