It’s dark and cramped. You can’t sit up and rolling over is impossible. Unable to escape, you stare up at the bottom of the bed, wondering what was going to happen next. Your stomach growls, but no one cares. It’s probably for the best since there aren’t any bathroom breaks. Sure, you could push one of the crates out of the way and slip out – except he’d know. He’d know you tried to leave. You’re Jayme Closs and you’re trapped.