She listened and heard nothing but her own breathing and heartbeat in her ears. With sudden alarm, she realized Ben was laying on the floor. The jol... of adrenaline from fear gave her the wherewithal to sit up and find him in just that state. His eyes were closed and he was laid out flat on his back. She rolled over trying to get off the couch. She slid instead and her face landed in his crotch with her legs still hung up on the cushions. Fearing he'd passed out or something, she ignored. How accurate will those be? I don't know. Let's assume massively accurate. So fucking what? They don't know where to start looking. There are millions of farmhouses around the country. Are the 4,000 or so agents of the FBI going to kick down all of those doors looking for slavers? No, are they going to put our faces on TV? Let them, we never leave the house. In a month, this will be old news, and Jeannette will be learning her new name in protective custody spending six days a week in therapy. More

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