You hear footsteps from above. Door creaking. Hope that everything will be as usual: she will bring you food and you have a conversation. It's not that bad, but you prepare for the worst every time. She entered, a plastic bag in her hand.

"Hey, there"

Yeah, just as always. Not a hint of anger or anything, just a dry greeting. Not exactly something you'd expect from a person who keeps you in her cellar.