Purple Summers fell into a deep sleep.
She didn't know how she had fallen asleep, under such circumstances, sleeping felt more like a passive resistance, an escape.
When she woke up again, Cherry was not on the bed, and a reddish glow from outside filtered through gaps in the curtains, casting fine dust particles that swayed in the light, making the room darker and more oppressive, like a prison cell.
Purple Summers got out of bed and pulled back the curtains—
What met her gaze was a cement courtyard wall, rather low, allowing her to see the scenery beyond—a vast wheat field that stretched out endlessly.
But she had no hope of escaping through the window.
Although the window was open, it had been fitted with a security grille, the joints of which had been welded shut.
By the light, it should be around four in the afternoon now;
