I knew that Morgan was going to be in a bad state, but I hadn't fully prepared myself for her to have completely lost the ability to talk to me.

She grabbed my shoulder, pointed toward the ground, and gave me a sad, terrified look. Then she hugged me again.

Ian said, "I told her what happened to you the other day, with the coffin."

I understood. I hugged Morgan back. "Thanks, kid." I said. "I'm okay now."

Morgan tried to tell me something else. She pointed at me and Bryce. When she couldn't express herself by pointing, she tried to speak, but only hollow gibberish came out of her mouth. It was like her lips were numb, and her jaw seemed stiff. She couldn't form words or sounds at all. She started to cry in frustration.

"We'll get you something to write with," I said.

Morgan gave me yet another look of despair.

Ian said, "Writing's not so easy for her either. We tried that. Her fingers are getting pretty numb. . ."

Morgan turned away and slammed her hand against the tin wall. The loud bang resonated in the silo's confined space.

She started to cry miserably, still without making any sound. I moved closer to her and held her while she cried. She started to rock herself back and forth, and I let myself rock with her. Then, slowly, Morgan started to breathe more deeply. She turned her head so her lips were against my ear, and I could feel the warmth of her suddenly tense inhalations. She moved her leg just a little over mine. Then she pressed her pubic bone into my hip, rotating her pelvis.

She let out a soft little moan of something close to pleasure.

It was the first fully-formed sound I'd heard her make. Then she started grinding even harder into my hip. She gently bit my ear lobe, breathing even more deeply. She moaned again, louder now. She was trying to . . . get off on me.

"Morgan." I pushed her away as gently but firmly as I could.

Ian stepped over and helped me up, pushing Morgan back as he separated us.

As if waking from a trance, Morgan suddenly realized what she'd been doing. She looked mortified. Suddenly she slammed the tin wall again, curled up into a little ball with her head between her knees, and started sobbing.

Ian pulled me farther away from her.

"She can't help it," he reminded me.

Morgan looked up. She waved us away fiercely with tears spilling from her eyes. Then she made a locking motion at Ian, reminding him to make sure to lock her inside again. . .