[It's beyond the scope of her imagination. The best she can equate it to is falling into a deep crevice, somewhere distant in the mountains. Leg stuck or broken, dead phone, not a soul nearby. Even that's not quite right. Maybe a captive in a dungeon, without even a guard to sneer at you as he drops off your daily slop.

It's horrifying. Thinking about the hours inching by, dripping into days and ghoulish years. Camille is very quiet.

She reaches out. Takes the other girl's hand, light and soft.]

I guess any escape is a good one at that point. [I'm sorry.] You're a stronger person than most, bearing through all that alone.

[And now it's her turn. Camille grimaces, eyes flitting down.]

...Well. One was killed. The other became a killer.