Raleigh hit the wall, but she barely felt it. Her foot was a dull pain to her now because everything was a wash of exhaustion and shock. There was blood under her nails now - skin too, maybe, but she found herself laughing as he grabbed her, dragging her into the main part of the motel room, and all she could do is stare up at the silent man, the one who'd dragged her here, who'd shoved her in a goddamned bag and then chained her to a toilet while an old man cut her foot open. "I hope you rot in hell."

She didn't see anyone else around them, but he said strap her to the bed and Raleigh shrugged. She pulled and kicked and fought, even if it broke open whatever scabbing had happened in her foot, even though it hurt like hell. She stared up at the old man as he stood over her, and she pulled herself up as much as she could with her hands tied (which wasn't much) - and she spat at him.

"You're a monster." She was going to die. It didn't work, she was going to die, and she knew it, she knew it, and somehow this was worse than the bathroom because now? Now she'd tried... and failed. She'd tried and failed to escape, and now that's all she was. Whatever happened now - she'd done all she could, and that was the end of it.