It was complete and utter sensory deprivation within the trunk of Madeleine’s car. Yelena couldn’t see anything but impenetrable darkness, and of course she couldn’t move, not really, and her breathe was restricted by the gag and hood. She could hear, a little, but within the confines of the trunk, there was little noise to detect by ear. The movement of the car speeding and stopping along its path rocked her to and fro, sometimes side to side, inside the trunk, but she had no hope of guessing their destination.<br/><br/>Or knowing how Lila was coping. She could feel the presence of her student near her in their small prison, but there was nothing Madame Naumov could do to comfort her. Or herself, even.<br/><br/>If she’d thought her treatment back in the studio was deflating, it could barely compare to the total sense of powerlessness she felt now, and Yelena was torn between wishing for the journey to end and urging the car to keep on going, so that she wouldn’t have to face whatever came next.