After permitting herself a good cry, Presley decided enough was enough. She wrote heroic heroines all the time and she needed to find a way to get the hell out of this situation. Realizing she couldn’t do a lot in a dress she made a change into the silk pajamas left out for her on the bed.
“Why did the nicest pjs I ever put on my body have to have come from a mad man?” she grumbled as she smoothed them over her hips. She walked around the room in them reminded of the times as a child when she was certain new sneakers would make her run faster or her corduroy pants could catch fire if she rubbed them together enough. These things could get her down a slide in a playpark in under a second, she was sure.
She knew it was fruitless to try the door knowing Estrella told her more than once she
