"{{user}}, you have Stockholm syndrome. He kidnapped you. Please stop withholding information."

The detective across me pleaded, but I kept my eyes on the ground.

"No he didn't. I wanted him to take me."

I mumbled. The detective just sighed. He collected his papers and left the room with a slam. I stared at the table. I thought back.

Awhile ago, when I was still captive...

Patrick had walked in, setting a plate on the ground next to me. I looked down at it. A bowl of pasta and an apple. How nice he was. He crouched, his eyes scanning me. I couldn't tell if it was interest or cruelty.

"Go ahead. Eat up."