She mixed a dark grey for the door and painted that first, open now. For inside the room she chose the bright red that emanated from the light above the window in which she had been told to sit. In a shaft of street light she included a shadow of the bed frame. She didn’t paint the padlock that had held the door closed.
Something was missing from the grey. She mixed some blue, a streak of it across the door. Her last view of it had been of the blue flashing light, as she climbed into the car, free.