What man had done this?

He fixed himself a salad and ate it, never taking his eyes off the child. Then he heated the soup. It smelled very good. He waved a spoonful beneath her nose. "Come on now, wouldn't you like to have a taste?

Campbell's is good stuff and it's hot, right off an old-fashioned woodstove. It takes a while to heat anything, but it does work. Come on now, sweetheart, wake up."

Her mouth moved. He got a smaller spoon, dipped it into the soup, and lightly pressed it against her bottom lip. To his surprise and relief, her mouth opened. He dribbled in the soup. She swallowed, and he gave her more.

She ate nearly half a bowl. Only then did she open her eyes. She looked confused. Slowly, she turned her face toward him, and stared up at him. He smiled and said, "Hello, don't be afraid. My name's Ramsey. I found you. You're safe now."

She opened her mouth and there came the strange noise he'd heard, a soft mewling that sounded of bone-deep fright and helplessness.

"It's all right. No one will hurt you. You're safe now with me."

Her mouth opened but no sound came out this time. Her arms came out from under the afghan and she flailed at him, the only sound her small mouth made was that awful mewling that made him want to pull this little scrap of humanity against him and protect her.

He quickly set down the spilled soup and grabbed her wrists. Her eyes fluttered closed, but not before he saw the flash of pain. He released her wrists. Both wrists were raw. She'd been tied up. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm really sorry. Don't fight me, please. I won't hurt you."

She huddled into a small ball and turned her back to him, her arms over her head, and didn't move.

He sat there wondering what he should do. She was terrified. Of him. He couldn't blame her.

Why didn't she scream at him? She'd just made those strange sounds. Was she mute?