She needed to solidify a plan. Every minute she spent laying in this bed, laying next to him, was time wasted. Where once this room had seemed warm and inviting, sacred even, it now was only a cold, empty cell she could only escape if she set aside her fear and took action. All of the ideas she had to incapacitate him involved drugs, violence, or both. Was there enough Benadryl in the end suite? Would the lamp be too heavy to swing at his sleeping head? She was thinner now than she’d ever wished for (oh, the irony!), and hitting him hard enough seemed almost impossible! She knew, though, if she could keep him unconscious for at least an hour, she could break the lock, open the door, and get far enough away that he couldn’t catch her. She’d never had to fend for herself like this before, but after weeks of captivity, she knew that she could demonstrate just as much bravery as he did malice, and for the first time ever, save herself.