Fall from Grace Page 20
by Syra Bond
For a moment, I thought of waving to him, as though he was a friend who had come to collect me, but straight away I felt the stupidity of it. He had come to collect me, but not as a friend - he had come to collect his possession. He had let me run. He had let me imagine I was free and escaping my captivity, but it had only happened at his behest. He had arranged this mock freedom only to show me how much his prisoner I was, only to make me feel even more humbled by the let-down of realising that I had always been - that I always would be - in his clutches. In truth, I had never been out of his sight, and there was no point in pretending that he had found me, for I had never been lost.
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