Finally, the car stopped moving. Yelena hadn’t yet decided whether to be relieved or terrified that they’d reached their destination when Sergei pulled her from the trunk, her cramped limbs instantly protesting. Blood flowed back into her legs with painful pinpricks, numb muscles now awake and complaining.<br/><br/>Was Lila receiving a similar treatment? She couldn’t see her student, had no way to judge how she had fared the long car ride, and she ached to be able to<em>see</em>, to<em>breathe</em>freely. Such simple luxuries, now denied her.<br/><br/>Then Sergei’s voice was in her ear, his accent uncomfortably reminding her of Maks and his goons. (<em>Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? After all these years!</em>) He offered her freedom, of a sort. Realistically, she knew she could not escape. She was still mostly bound and completely blinded by the hood. Flexible or not, she was no Houdini, and she was not getting her hands and face free anytime soon - if ever.<br/><br/>But still…it was a tempting offer. A taunt really.<br/><br/>And Yelena took it. She darted wildly forward, stumbling on half-asleep legs. She couldn’t see, could barely run, but still, she tried. She had to try. It was glorious just to resist for those few seconds, even when she fully realized on some level it was futile.<br/><br/>The ground was uneven, strewn with stones, and by the count of eight, Madame Yaumov had stumbled, tripping over numb legs and a rocky terrain, falling face first to the hard ground with a muffled “oomph!” beneath her hood.