(GRIFFIN)
The next morning, Maya wakes up without a single recollection of her nightmare. Instead, she watches me with a guarded expression from the other side of the cabin.
"I don't care how good-looking you are," she tells me, pointing a large wooden spoon at me. "If you start getting frisky with me, I'll smack you."
I have to hide my smile. Nobody has ever accused me of being frisky. And she thinks I'm good-looking. I feel rather pleased at that, given my current malnourished condition.
"You were trying to attack me in your sleep," I tell her calmly, but she just gives me a disbelieving shake of her head.
"Yeah, sure, that's what happened."
Maya seems to have recovered some of her strength, but she is moving a little slowly.
"How much longer do we have to be stuck here?" she complains, banging cupboards as she searches for something. "I'll go crazy locked up in this place."
"You were locked up in that cell for far longer," I point out.
