The next month went quickly. They kept up the schedule of Kurt and Blaine picking up Santana each morning and it worked well for all of them. One day after school, Santana got in Kurt's SUV and looked down, not saying anything to either boy, and Blaine was very quiet, too. Kurt could cut the tension with a knife.

“Everything okay, Santana?” Kurt questioned, looking at her in his rear view mirror.

“Of course it is, Porcelain,” she snapped. Kurt was taken aback, she hadn't called him any derogatory names in a month. He looked at Blaine, who looked out the window.

Kurt didn't drive Santana home, he drove to The Lima Bean and went in to get the three of them coffee and then drove to the park. He opened Santana's door and put up a hand to help her out as Blaine was getting out, too. The walked in silence to the picnic bench in the shade.

“Okay, Satan. Spill.”

She took a sip of her coffee and turned her head.

“Okay, I'm sorry. It was an accident and I will never mention it again. Okay? Can we be friends again?” Blaine blurted out. The girl glared at him.

“What?” Kurt asked, looking from one to the other.

“Can I tell him? He won't say a word about it. You know he can be trusted, okay?” Blaine asked. She just shrugged to show her lack of caring and took another sip of her coffee.

“Her name isn't really Santana.” Blaine said. Kurt looked at her and thought she blushed.

“I was in the office to sign a paper – something to do with my address, the office clerk wondered why I was living with you instead of Santana. Lauren was there and she set a folder on the edge of the desk, and it fell. I bent to pick it up and I saw it was Santana's but that isn't her real name. It's Saint Anna Lopez,” Blaine smiled and Santana jabbed him in the gut with her elbow.

“Oh, no...and I've been calling you Satan for years,” Kurt got a smirk on his face, trying not to laugh, but not exactly succeeding. “And now I find we have a real live saint living among us!”

Santana turned to Kurt and growled. “Say that again, and I'll be wearing a Kurt-skin vest with my Blaine-hide boots to school tomorrow. Now, thank you for the coffee and take me home.”

Kurt screwed up all of his courage and leaned over to her, gently placing his arms around her shoulders and risking his life further by placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. He let go quickly, knowing her temper, and was surprised by her tiny smile. But she didn't say anything, just got up and walked back to the Navigator, getting inside to wait. Blaine and Kurt exchanged smiles and followed her.

The next day was Friday and Lauren called Thursday night.

“Hey, Kurt. Is Blaine there?”

“Yes, do you want to talk to him?”

“Do you see the problem with that?” she asked in her deadpan voice.

“No, I'll just hand him the phone.”

“And therein lies the problem, Kurt. What if you weren't there? What if Blaine were out on the football field, cornered by some of those testosterone-poisoned jocks and needed to call for help?” Lauren asked as though she were speaking to a five year old.

“Oh....” Kurt said.

“Very eloquent, Hummel. But we need to take care of this pronto. We're ditching tomorrow, you, Blaine, Puck, and me. We'll meet you at eight at Puck's house and go into Columbus. Bring money.”

“Okay, Lauren. What should we wear?” Kurt asked.

There was just a growl and she hung up her phone.

The next morning, Kurt pulled up in front of Puck's house at ten minutes to eight. He got out of the Navigator and walked to the door, ringing the bell. Gramma Sofie opened the door, looking behind Kurt. “Well, bring him in, too,” she said and turned to walk back into the house. Kurt waved for Blaine to join him and they came in, Blaine looking around at all the Victorian furnishings and smiling.

They joined Lauren, Puck, and Gramma Sofie at the table, set with a lace table cloth and heavy silver flatware, crystal water glasses and imported china decorated with roses. In platters covering the table were fluffy scrambled eggs, toast made from home baked bread in thick slices, slabs of bacon, piles of golden crusted fried potatoes, batter-dipped fried green tomatoes, and patties of homemade German sausages. Everyone had a big glass of milk and a smaller one of orange juice.

Gramma bowed her tiny white-bunned head and said a silent prayer, voicing the 'Amen” with Puck as she ended it and looking up at her guests. Kurt could see how happy it made her to have guests and he smiled a warm smile at the old woman, who smiled back.

“Noah, start passing the platters, you need to eat before you go on this errand of yours.”

Everyone filled their plates with the delicious food, laughing and smiling as they talked to each other and told stories and jokes. Gramma Sofie reached to give Kurt the platter of eggs again and her sleeve pulled back, showing her forearm that she always kept hidden under the flowered dresses she wore. She saw his eyes go to the tattoo there, but brushed her other hand over the sleeve to hide it, and the look of utter despair on her face stopped Kurt from saying anything. He pretended not to have noticed and Sofie was back to telling stories of Noah's legendary appetite as a child.

After breakfast, everyone pitched in to wash the dishes and put things away. Sofie excused herself to the 'parlor' and went to sit down by herself. Kurt asked if he could help, but she shooed him away and smiled at him. He didn't have the heart to ask her about the tattoo. He had seen one before and knew what it was. He briefly wondered if Puck knew where she had gotten it, but dismissed the idea of asking him.

Pulling up to the phone store in Columbus, they all piled out and Blaine got plenty of advice on which one to buy. He picked a purple one at first, but a look from Kurt made him choose the gray one. That task done, they sat at the local park and everyone put their phone numbers in Blaine's new cell, adding whomever they thought he might need. He called them all back to give them his number amid a lot of laughter.

They sat for a while, just enjoying the day, when Lauren took an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Blaine. He opened it to find a brand new ID with his old name JOSHUA BLAINE ANDERSON, along with his old address. She also had a social security card. He just looked at her – because the picture on the license was Puck.

“Blaine, you have accounts at three banks here in Columbus. From what I know about my father's notes on you, they are watching these banks. I think we can get the money out of one bank, but not risk the others. While I don't have exact amounts, your largest account is at the US Bank. That's also the one where you have a separate signature card. The others require your parent's signature for you to access the money. I don't want them to be able to recognize you, so Noah has offered to go into the bank for you.”

“Isn't that bank fraud? Or theft or something?” Kurt asked.

“No, he's giving the money directly to Blaine, so there should be no problem. Now, sign your name, Blaine, so Puck can see if his is close.”

The two boys signed and with a bit of adjustment it was close. Blaine hadn't signed anything for years, so it would be difficult for anyone to make a comparison. They drove to a park near the bank and Blaine got out, wearing a hat. They sat on benches, talking while Puck took the ID and social security card to the bank, along with a briefcase. He was wearing a wig, to hide the mohawk, but it was done well, and thick framed glasses. He added a tie to his button down shirt and even Kurt approved. He was gone a while, but came back, beckoned the others into the car and Kurt drove away. Lauren directed him to drive away from Columbus in the opposite direction, then to turn back at the next city, just in case.

Once on the road, Blaine looked at Puck, who was grinning.

“Shit, kid, your parents must be loaded. Do you know how much money was in that account?”

“Not really, my grandparents took care of that one, which is why my parents' names weren't on the signature card.”

“Lauren told me not to take it all, because closing an account takes all kinds of paperwork and sends up red flags. There was over $300,000 in there. I took half. You're set for a long time, Blaine.”

He smiled, but the joy did not go to his eyes. Blaine understood how a seemingly good thing could turn on you and ruin your life...

As they drove back to Lima, they were mostly silent. Blaine played with his new cell phone, wondering if he dared to try and find Cooper, but thought that might bring suspicion down on him, so he dismissed it. He was still unsure about Cooper. Why hadn't he ever come home to see Blaine? Was he so disgusted that Blaine was gay that he couldn't even bring himself to step foot in the house? Blaine had dreamed about Cooper coming to save him over and over.

He had to quit thinking about it. That part of his life was over. He turned to the others, “Lunch is on me!” he quipped and they all laughed.

Back in Lima, Blaine asked if they could go to the mall. He wasn't going to spend too much, didn't want to be suspicious, but he wanted a few things and wanted to treat his friends. The first place they went was the video game store and he got Puck some games. Then off to get Lauren some music, and himself an iPod. Kurt wanted to wait on his present, so they returned to drop Puck and Lauren off at his house.

“Kurt, I have to mow the Anderson place tomorrow,” Puck reminded him. Kurt cringed. “I'd blow it off, but Lauren thinks that it would look strange if I just stopped doing a job I've had for two years when the son of the owners disappeared from their estate. Hey, Blaine, you want to come with us?”

The look on Blaine's face was shocking. He turned pale and started to shake before Puck ran over...”Oh, Blaine, no. I was joking! I'm sorry, man, I was kidding. I didn't mean to upset you.” Lauren smacked Puck hard, anger on her face.

“That wasn't funny, Puckerman.” she said, turning to embrace Blaine. Puck had the same idea and they sort of smothered him trying to comfort him.

“Hey, it's okay. I know you were kidding. I'll just stay at Kurt's house. I'll be fine,” Blaine said.

They all said an awkward goodbye and Kurt took Blaine home, stopping by the drug store to get a few things on the way.

Dinner was uneventful other than Finn was happy his mother had made spaghetti with bolognaise sauce. Blaine was quiet, but only Kurt really noticed and after dinner the two boys went down to their room to do homework.

The briefcase with the money was under Kurt's bed. They had to get some legal advice before they decided what to do with it. Actually, Blaine had no idea what to do with it. He didn't even want to think about it.

Kurt was lying on his bed on his stomach, his knees bent and his feet in the air. He was propped on his elbows reading his history book. Blaine was downloading music to his iPod, Kurt had shown him how and Blaine was having fun finding songs. He had a computer before he had been locked up, but he'd never done anything like this, and Blaine was always interested in learning something new – which was what made the torture of living in the attic room so bad. There were no books. Blaine had made up stories in his head, but there was nowhere to write it all down, so he'd committed it to memory. He thought he might get himself a small computer so he could write some of them down before he lost them out of his head. Every day it seemed that what had happened to him was a little more lost from his memory. That was a good thing, wasn't it? Should he try to forget it or pretend it didn't happen? Blaine just had no idea and his head hurt when he tried to think about it. Then something would happen to make it all come back – make it so real that he shook and trembled in fear - like the day Kurt had declared him to be his prisoner. He knew Kurt was playing, but his body didn't react that way. He could still feel the cold fingers of fear creeping along his veins. He shook his head to clear it. Then what Puck said today..

“Blaine!” Kurt shouted.

Blaine turned, “What?”

“What's wrong? I called to you several times, it was like you weren't in the same room with me.” Kurt looked concerned.

“Nothing.”

Kurt got up and came over to Blaine's bed. He sat down carefully so as not to touch Blaine and just looked into his eyes. Blaine's arms came up in invitation and Kurt pulled him into an embrace.

“Blaine, you can tell me. I could see how lost you looked. Were you thinking about the attic room?”

“Yes. Am I going crazy, Kurt? Will they have to lock me up?” he asked, apparently in all seriousness. The thought terrified him. How ironic would that be...to be locked up for going crazy because he was locked up. He hung on to Kurt tighter.

“It's okay, Blaine. I won't let them hurt you. I'll stand by you, Blaine. Always.” and Blaine could imagine that Kurt actually meant it.

“I just freaked out today..when Puck..” Blaine whimpered, not wanting to give words to the fear, but completely unable to keep it to himself when Kurt was holding him.

“I know, Blaine, he didn't mean to upset you, and he was sorry. But that didn't make it hurt any less, did it?” Kurt said into Blaine's curls where he was holding him closely.

“I knew he was kidding me, I did, so I don't know why I overreacted.”

“The same reason you had that panic attack when I said I was taking you prisoner. You are healing, Blaine, but that fear took over three long years of your life. It's not like you can just snap your fingers and it's gone. I wish I could help. While I can give you all the understanding and sympathy in me, it won't make me know what you went through – what you're still going through every day. Just please, please, Blaine, tell me when you feel like that and I will be there for you.”

“Thank you, Kurt...” Blaine kissed Kurt, quick kisses with panting breath, Kurt kissing back just as much until he moved to Blaine's neck, loving the shivers that crept up his flesh when Blaine made those little noises of contentment and lust and threw himself into kissing Kurt all over, sucking little bruises over his collarbones and the licking them just to taste the skin and the salty sweat that was there as a result of their contact.

It was late and they had already said goodnight to the family, gotten into their pajamas, and were ready to sleep, so spending a few private moments necking or making out didn't seem like a big thing. And after a little more than a month with nobody coming down to the bedroom, they had gotten a little less cautious. Kurt pulled Blaine's shirt off, kissing his chest right below his collarbone, licking a wide stripe down his sternum and back up to suck on Blaine's nipple while rubbing the other one with his fingers.

Blaine just could not stop squealing when Kurt did that, so he held the pillow over his face and Kurt moved his other hand to grasp the hardness through Blaine's pajamas. Blaine's legs spread under Kurt's touch, and Kurt was sliding his fingers under the waistband, Blaine saying things into his pillow that reached Kurt's ears to encourage him.

“Oh, Kurt...there, put your hand inside my pants and stroke me, Kurt, I want you, pleeeaaaase, Kurt...” he was babbling when he realized someone was standing in the doorway. Watching them. Blaine stopped immediately, grabbing Kurt's hand to stop the fondling.

Kurt pulled his hand free to continue, this being one of the games they played. Blaine had a safe word in case he felt afraid or threatened, and when he didn't use it, Kurt thought this was part of the play.

“Oh, Blaine, you can't tease me, I know you want it...” but one look at Blaine's face and Kurt froze. He followed Blaine's line of sight to find Finn standing in the doorway, mouth open and gasping in shock. Kurt tugged his pajama pants back up over his erection while pulling his hand from Blaine's pants and putting a hand up as though to stop Finn.

“He said to stop, Kurt. What the fuck are you doing?” Finn said in a very soft voice, like one he would use to calm down a Bengal tiger about to pounce.

“Oh..no, Finn. I wasn't...I would never...” but Kurt had no idea what to say. If he confessed they were boyfriends, it might put Blaine at risk. Letting Finn think Kurt was forcing himself on poor “straight” Blaine would be the worst confirmation of an ugly rumor. But what could he do? Order Finn to leave? He probably would if Blaine didn't protest, but he'd probably go right to Burt and Carole. Ever aware of Blaine, Kurt had grabbed the edge of Blaine's blanket and pulled it up to afford the poor boy some privacy. Kurt got up, taking Finn by the sleeve and directing him into the storage room across the hall.

“Finn, I can explain. Please don't say anything until I'm done because it's long and it's complicated,” Kurt started to say, wishing he had thought to grab his shirt before walking out in the hall.

Finn just looked at him, not knowing which way to jump. “Okay, Kurt, it didn't look like you hurt Blaine, so I'll listen. But tell me the truth, Kurt. I do not want to hear any lies from you,” Finn said, frowning in confusion.

“Okay. Blaine and I are more than just friends, and yes, he is gay, too. Really, Finn, did you think I was seducing him against his will? What kind of person do you take me for?” Kurt was actually hurt now, thinking about it. “Despite what you might have believed when you were an ignorant child, gay men are not out to recruit more for our team or something,” Kurt said, frowning back at Finn.

“Now, Blaine is probably traumatized, so I am going back in there to calm him down. Please stay right here and I will see what he wants to tell you, because his life could be in danger if you say the wrong thing. I'm serious, Finn. Wait here.”

Kurt returned to the bedroom, finding Blaine curled up in a ball, his shirt on and buried in Kurt's blankets on the far side of Kurt's bed. He saw Kurt enter the room and whimpered, a hand stealing out from under the blanket to reach a little toward his friend. Kurt went and sat on the bed, coaxing Blaine out to sit in his lap while he explained that he wanted to know how much Blaine was willing to share with Finn. As he guessed, Blaine was just incapable of making that decision, so Kurt asked if he could tell just the bare bones without saying Blaine's real name, or the exact means of his arriving at Kurt's house.

“Finn, can you come in here?” Kurt called.

Finn walked around the corner and sat in the desk chair, looking at Blaine wrapped around Kurt and trembling in his lap. A look of concern crossed Finn's face. Kurt grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it around Blaine to offer him more comfort.

“Blaine is in hiding, Finn. Puck and I helped him escape from a bad situation and we have to hide him. You cannot tell anyone, although Santana knows. If they find Blaine, his life could be in grave danger, okay?” Kurt said.

“But why? This all sounds like a movie or something, not real life,” Finn said, still looking confused.

“Well, this is real life – mostly this is Blaine's real life. Blaine was in danger and when Puck and I found him, I offered to help. We are hiding him at McKinley because he doesn't stick out there, so he raises no suspicion – but in order for him to stay safe, nobody can know he isn't straight. That's why he dresses the way he does and I don't hold his hand at school or kiss him in public. Do you understand?” Kurt asked, Blaine hid his head in Kurt's neck.

“Yeah, I do. Is the mafia after him or something?” Finn asked.

“No, but I can't tell you any details. Are you willing to help us? I'm asking a big thing, I know, Finn, but I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that if word of Blaine gets out, it could be his very life in peril. Do you understand?”

“I do, Kurt. And I'm sorry, Blaine, if you're going through this. If I can help, I will.” Finn said.

“And do not, under any circumstances, tell Rachel. Never. Ever. Agreed?” Kurt said, giving Finn his most serious look.

Finn agreed, then turned to Blaine, “Can I help with anything? I know I'm just Kurt's brother, but I though if there's anything I can do....” his voice trailed off.

“I just want to go to sleep,” Blaine said into Kurt's neck.

“Okay, dude, I'll go back to my room. But, you should have told me. I'm not some stupid jerk just because I'm on the football team. If I can do anything, tell me. I can at least run interference with Mom and Burt.”

“We'd appreciate that, Finn. We can talk about it tomorrow when Blaine is feeling better,” Kurt told him.

“One thing – you're not really Santana's cousin, are you?” Finn asked.

Blaine shook his head.

“Well, that's a count in your favor, dude. How on earth did you get her to cooperate?” Finn looked at Kurt, but Kurt shrugged.

“I guess you'd have to ask Noah Puckerman for the answer to that one.”

“Goodnight, Blaine, Kurt.” Finn said, turning to go back upstairs.

“Goodnight...”

Blaine didn't sleep well that night. Over the past month since Puck and Kurt had rescued him, he had been on a roller-coaster of emotions. It was hard to understand how he felt, one minute he was so thrilled he could walk in the sunshine and eat whatever he wanted. Then a word or a shadow made him cower in abject fear, wondering how much time he had before they came and locked him up again, or he woke from this dream to find he had never left that room. He didn't understand a lot of what went on around him. Being removed from all contact at the age of twelve, he didn't learn how to be a sixteen year old.

His emotions were stunted and it was like he was developmentally disabled, but he couldn't tell anyone. He knew, though, from people's reactions. He could ask his inner circle: Puck, Lauren, Santana, and Kurt, but they weren't always available and sometimes didn't understand what he was going through. It was frustrating. But he knew Kurt was doing everything in his power to learn about what was wrong with Blaine and he was always patient. That was a lot of why Blaine was in love with him. But he was scared to put that into words in case he was misreading Kurt's intentions – and given that he had never had any instruction or role models on how a gay teen should act, he felt lost.

He was sleeping on the other side of the bed, trying to wean himself away from being so clingy at night – but today had been too hard on him. The trip to Columbus where he used to go with his brother, then the money and the bank, Puck's joke about going back to his house, and to top it all, Finn. Blaine was afraid of Finn. He was huge, and Blaine wasn't sure he liked him at all. Finn wasn't very friendly even at dinner. Blaine couldn't tell if it was that Finn was just busy, or too wrapped up in his life, or held some animosity toward Kurt, but the feeling was present whenever Kurt and Finn were in the room together.

It was getting on toward morning, and Blaine was getting more anxious about having to spend the day in this house with Finn and Burt. So he crawled closer to Kurt and snuggled into Kurt's side. In his sleep, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine like an octopus and tangled their legs together. He mumbled something and kissed Blaine's shoulder before falling back into a deep sleep. It was the best comfort Blaine could imagine, and he finally fell asleep.

In the morning, Kurt was up and dressed by 5 o'clock. Puck liked to get out to the Anderson Estate early and get his work done and get back home. Blaine was dressed, too, and acting a little strange. He wouldn't talk and he paced back and forth, telling Kurt he wasn't hungry.

“Blaine, we need to go do this job. If we don't it will look suspicious. We will only be gone until noon, so maybe you could watch TV here in the basement, or put in that last Harry Potter movie? Why are you so nervous?” Kurt asked, trying to keep the impatience out of this voice.

“I am scared to be here without you. We don't know what Finn might do, and I can't stop him. I cannot come with you and Puck, I don't know what to do.”

How about I take you to Puck's house? You can watch Harry Potter there, or play videos until we come home. The only person in the house is Gramma Sofie and she likes you. Okay?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, Kurt, I think I'd do okay there. I need to be by myself if can't be with you. Are you sure it's okay?” Blaine asked.

“I'll call Puck to confirm,” and Kurt told him a minute later that he was welcome.

Upon arrival, Gramma Sofie was back to her old self, happy and baking cookies. There was a huge spread of food on the table and the boys ate their fill and Puck and Kurt left. Blaine was in Puck's room playing a game on the X-box. He'd brought his Harry Potter book for later and some homework, too. Puck said he'd be back just after noon and they could go do something this afternoon. Blaine was playing a new game that he'd bought for Puck called 'Silent Hill'.

He hadn't played this one before, but when he started the game, his avatar was locked in his bedroom. The room was dark and small and he had to get out...and Blaine started to tremble. This was silly, it was just a game, he would be fine if he could just figure out how to get his avatar out of the room, but his hands were shaking and the buttons on the device weren't working correctly because of it.

He could just turn off the game, but the loud music was getting into his head and he was trapped. He couldn't get out of that room, he was trapped. He had to get out. Where was Kurt? Kurt could get him out. The shaking was getting worse and he had to hide. Before someone saw him and took him back to the attic room. Where was Kurt?

Gramma Sofie had finished the last batch of cookies and was washing the utensils she had used in her baking. She enjoyed baking and she enjoyed the simple tasks of cleaning up. Her life had been so much better these past months since her great-grandson, Noah, had come to live with her. She knew his story, knew his father was a deadbeat, knew her granddaughter had practically abandoned her son when she chose to move to another state. A lot of people thought Noah was a wild child, but Sofie knew he was just spirited and didn't need to be tamed, he needed to be loved. And Sofie had a lot of love to give him. It was good to have young people around her, ones with hope in their eyes, ones whose hearts hadn't crumbled to ash.

She finished the washing and put the dishes to dry for a while in the drainer. She used to dry them with a towel and place them all back in their places, but at 86 years old, her knees hurt if she stood for too long.

Walking into the parlor to sit and read her newspaper, Sofie thought she heard something. It was like crying, but she had heard that kind of crying before and it sent a cold chill around her heart. That was a cry of someone heartbroken and trying to hide it. She had heard it too often to mistake it for anything else. She could hear the desperation and fear tearing from that throat, and the hands in front of the mouth-trying in vain to stop the noise before it fell on the wrong ears. She felt frozen, it had been so long since anyone she knew had a reason for that kind of fear, and there was nobody home. Maybe she was just hearing things in her mind?

Sophia had been reminded of that past the other morning at breakfast when Burt's boy saw her tattoo, that physical reminder of what had happened to her when she was the same age as Noah and his friends. Sofie closed her eyes, but the sound came to her again, pounding in her brain. Then she thought, Noah and Kurt had gone to do some work and left the other boy, the one with curls like her brother, here to play games in Noah's room. She had felt something was different about that boy, but maybe it was just his resemblance to Hans, her brother.

She turned, set down her paper and climbed the stairs to Noah's room. She knocked on the door but got no answer, just a small gasp of breath, so she opened the door carefully. Nobody was here. Were her ears playing tricks on her? She was confused until she heard a muffled sob coming from under the bed.

“It's me, Sofia. I won't hurt you. Come out....” it took her a minute to recall his name. “Blaine? Honey, it's okay. There is nobody here but me, come out.” She knew that just asking would probably not bring him into the open. She had known too many people like this. She didn't know Blaine, didn't know his personal story, but it was also true that she probably knew more about him than anyone else in Ohio.

So she went to the desk and sat in the chair. She hummed a tune to herself, something she heard as a child, a Polish folk song. It was soothing, both to her and she hoped to Blaine. She patiently sat in the chair, humming or speaking comforting words to the boy hiding under the bed. She thought to call Noah, but wasn't sure he knew about this boy's fear. Sophie understood it – even after seventy years, something would remind her and she would freeze in fear and stay wrapped in her blankets in her bed for days.

“Blaine? How long were you imprisoned?” she asked. “How long were you tortured?”

He didn't know what to say. Did Noah or Kurt tell her? They had promised not to. How many people had they told? How soon before he would be taken back to the attic room?'

“Blaine, I won't hurt you. I won't tell. Don't doubt your friends, they never breathed a word to me. I just know. I've known people like you, Blaine. I know the signs. I've been there.”

Blaine found his voice, but was still under the bed, huddled against the far wall and he didn't think he could come out. He whimpered, trying not to cry any more.

“I was locked up, too. When I was your age.” Sofia said, very quietly, as though she were talking to herself. “I was a prisoner, too.”