Terri had listened, but other than the food being brought, she didn't hear Mary being returned to her cell. Every time she woke from a fitful sleep, she went to her door and called out for the girl. Her voice echoed down the corridor in vain. The other girls had stopped talking or answering — in fear of the same fate that had befallen Mary.
Leslie and Cathy were still in their cells and they hadn't been taken out again. A doctor had come to see them, checking the wound on their sides, removing the stitches, all without saying a word. Both girls had no idea what had been done to them. But Leslie confirmed there was something hard under her skin, in her right side.
Terri had taken to sitting with her back pressed into the farthest corner of her cell, knees tight up against her chest, eyes focused on the door. She held on to one thing — her dad would come for her. She knew that as firmly as she could feel the concrete against her back.