The silence that followed stretched between us like a blade. In those two words—you won't—I heard everything he'd been too careful to say directly. This wasn't hospitality. This wasn't even a business arrangement between civilized people.
This was captivity, however elegantly disguised.
Say something, I commanded myself. Challenge him, defy him, make it clear that you won't be cowed by pretty threats.
But what could I say that wouldn't make my situation worse? What argument could I make that would change the fundamental reality of my powerlessness here?
"I understand," I said finally, the words feeling like swallowing glass.
I understand that you're holding me prisoner while pretending to offer me freedom.
I understand that my family's survival depends on my compliance with rules I'm
