We’ve been walking for some time. At first, I tried to count steps and pay attention, so that I could recreate our route later, but, being blindfolded, I lose all sense of direction after a few turns. For all I know, he could be walking me in circles, to make sure I’m properly confused and won’t be able to retrace our steps if I try to escape one day. On the other hand, the longer we walk through these invisible corridors, the more likely we are to be spotted by others. If that happens, they’ll surely prevent us from going outside.

I can only hope that Aiden knows what he’s doing. We descend some steps—he warns me in advance and then carefully leads me down. We ride an elevator up and then walk some more. I can hear no sounds but the occasional humming of machinery, and the blowing of cool air from AC vents.

Walking blindfolded is tricky, but Aiden’s arm around my shoulders keeps me steady, and by now I’m pretty confident that he won’t let me walk into a wall, so we’re moving faster. I have a hand around his waist for balance, and I’m acutely aware of the soft fabric of his hoodie, and the warmth of the body underneath. He smells nice, too. Cologne. He must have prepared for this, like it was a real date. The thought hurts a bit. He thinks we’re heading for a romantic date while all I seek is a chance to escape.

His hand makes me stop, and I hear a door open. Then, the atmosphere changes. Instead of the sterile air-conditioned air, there’s the unmistakable sweetness of fresh breeze. There’re smells, too, of trees, and cars, and something being cooked, somewhere not too far away. There’re sounds of distant traffic, and a crow croaking nearby. I stand there, frozen, until Aiden gently nudges me forward, leading me across an invisible threshold.

Instead of smooth tiles, I sense uneven ground under my shoes. Small stones, maybe gravel. I make a few steps and stop, unable to continue.

“Can I take this off?” I whisper, hating the pleading notes in my tone. “Aiden, please. I need to see this.” I need to know it’s really happening.

“All right.” He gently removes my black goggles.

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust, even though the light is not too bright. It’s almost sunset. We’re in a parking lot, mostly empty, with only two cars parked to my right. In front of us, there’s a diner, already glowing from inside with warm yellow light, even though the sun hasn’t completely set yet. We’re at the side of the building, and so I can’t see the name of the diner. Behind it is a gas station. I can see a part of it, a man working there, dressed in a colorful uniform.

There’s a city in the distance, but I don’t recognize the skyline. From my right, comes the steady noise of a highway, many cars moving fast. I look that way but can’t see the road because of the bushes that grow alongside the parking lot. I try to look behind me, to see the door through which we’ve arrived, but Aiden’s hand lands on the back of my head, gently but firmly forcing me to look forward.

“That way,” he says. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” I say, and start walking.

It’s so crazy, the feeling of the earth under my feet, the smells, the sounds. I look up, and the sky’s purple and grey and pink, with those ragged, weirdly colored sunset clouds. Occasional birds cross it from side to side. It’s as real as the sky can get.

“You said you wanted to see the sky,” Aiden says, walking next to me.

“I did,” I say absently. “I totally did.”

“Allow me,” he says as we reach the diner’s side door, and he holds it open for me.

I step inside. There’s a row of booths, with leather coaches, along the front wall. The wall is mostly glass, just one long window. I can see more of the gas station through it, and the parking lot at the front, but it’s getting harder to make out the details with the sunlight fading outside.

Behind the counter, a woman straightens up and looks at us. She’s probably in her forties, skinny, with dark hair gathered in a bun, and wearing a neat apron. After giving us a look over, she smiles and gestures to the row of seats.

“Wherever you like it, guys,” she says. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

I can see no other customers. Perhaps Aiden has chosen the place with all that in mind—a remote diner, not a busy hour, as few visitors as possible.

“You pick the seat,” Aiden says.

I look helplessly at the row of booths. The closest to the exit? So that maybe I could dart outside when Aiden isn’t looking? Or the closest to the cash register, to maybe give some sign of distress to the waitress? I’m so unprepared for this. I guess I never really believed Aiden would act upon his promise.

“Maybe that one?” Aiden gestures at the booth in the corner.

“Okay,” I say, and let him walk me there. We pass the open door leading to the back of the restaurant—to the kitchen maybe—and I see a man there, a bald, middle-aged guy in a faded T-shirt and equally faded jeans. He’s holding a piece of paper, a list of sorts, as he examines the shelves.

I slip into my seat, my heart hammering. I feel like I’m about to faint. This is so overwhelming. After five years spent in three white rooms—and a corridor—there’s suddenly a new place, new scenery, new people. New possibilities. Maybe when the waitress comes over, I should just yell “I’ve been kidnapped! Call the police!” What would Aiden do? Could he hurt me for doing that? Could he hurt her to prevent her from calling the police?

Could he himself get hurt for allowing this to happen?

I watch him slide into his seat in front of me. He settles down and gives me a sheepish green. He looks so handsome, and so nervous, and, as usual, I have no idea how much of this is true. I mean, he has good reason to be nervous, even apart from this being a date. He must have risked a thing or two by bringing me here.

“You won’t get in trouble?” I say. “For doing this?”

“As I said, if you behave, it’ll be fine.” He smiles and puts his hands invitingly on the table, palms up. As if in a trance, I place my hands into his, and he squeezes them gently. “This time, we’re going to have a perfect first date.”

“Aww, so sweet,” croons the waitress, coming over, eyeing our interlinked hands. “Celebrating something?”

“Our first official date,” Aiden tells her, then gives me a smile that squeezes my heart. He is trying to make this special for me. Still, I must keep in mind that I’m basically his prisoner. Him treating me well doesn’t change that.

“Oh well,” says the waitress, “in that case, dessert on the house! Would you like something to eat?” She turns to me, placing two menus on the table. “Just let me know what you need, sweety. I’m here to help.”