Chapter 47: Playing Their Games

Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy. -Aristotle

Sitting up straight, I square my shoulders and level my chin. Touching my lips makes me grimace. The metallic taste of blood sparks up the buds on my tongue, and my eyes water.

I'll be damned if I let him see me cry.

I swallow hard, forcing the tears back down that are threatening to breach the threshold of my resolve.

Anger grows in the pit of my belly, contracting into a tight ball. Now, I have a choice to make - an important one - one that could dictate whether I live or die.

Do I submit to their commands and die - or do I play their game - biding time until I can escape and live?

"Open the box. I won't tell you again."