“I’m here,” I say stiffly.
He clears his throat. “You made your point about the room. I’m sorry about what I did.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I realize now I was wrong.”
“I see. So you’re sorry?”
He clears his throat. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
He is silent for a bit. “Say what?”
“Say you’re sorry that you did a terrible thing to me.”
I watch his expression on the screen. He doesn’t want to tell me he’s sorry because he’s not. All he’s sorry for is that he gave me the chance to get the better of him.
“I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I was absolutely wrong. I did an awful thing to you, and I will never do it again.” He pauses. “Will you let me out now?”
“Yes. I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Just notyet.”
He inhales sharply. “Millie…”
“I’m going to let you out.” My calm voice belies the pounding in my chest. “But before I do, you have to be punished for what you did to me.”
“Don’t play this game,” he growls. “You don’t have the stomach for it.”
He wouldn’t talk to me that way if he knew I beat a man to death with a paperweight. He has no idea. But I’m betting that Nina knows. “I want you to lie down on the floor and put those three books on top of you.”
“Come on. This is ridiculous. “
“I’m not letting you out of this room until you do it.”
Andrew lifts his eyes to look into the camera. I always thought he had nice eyes, but there’s venom in them as he stares at me.Not at me,I remind myself. He’s looking at the camera. “Fine. I’ll humor you.”
He lies down on the floor. One by one, he picks up each book and stacks them on his abdomen, the same way I did only hours earlier. But he’s bigger and stronger than I am, and he only looks mildly uncomfortable with those books on top of him, even when all three are stacked on him.
“Happy?” he calls out.
“Lower,” I say.
“What?”
“Move the books lower.”
“I don’t know what you—”
I press my forehead against the door as I speak: “You knowexactlywhat I mean.”
Even through the door, I can hear the sharp inhale of his breath. “Millie, I can’t—”
“If you want to get out of that room, you’re going to do it.”