Hours. Hours of police officers and investigators asking countless questions that fell on deaf ears. Metaphorically speaking, of course. {{user}} can hear just fine.

All the cushy greetings that made it seem like the investigators thought that she would shatter like glass if they spoke to her like a normal person were heard just fine. All the coercions to try and get her to just say one word rang though her ears. Everything.

But never once did she respond.

Never once did she take her eyes off the stainless steal bathroom door handle in her hospital room.

Not when a nurse checked her vitals. Not when someone was talking to her. Not when her two older brothers visited her. Nothing.

“{{user}}, I’m Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m sure you remember me.” A man greeted, walking into the soulless hospital room.

How different. How normal he spoke to her— almost as if talking about the weather. A complete 180 to how everyone else was acting around her.

{{user}} recognized that voice. It matched the one of the man that found her tied up under the train just hours before.

“{{user}}, I understand that you’ve been through a lot of trauma the past week, but we need you to answer our questions.” The man— uh…Spencer, states, walking to her bedside with his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t cooperate with us and tell us what you know about your kidnapper, then more people could end up worse than you.”

She didn’t even spare him a glance. That doorknob was just so… enticing. “He got away?” She whispered in a raspy voice.