In the manager's office of the facility, the head of the institution sat around a small round table, discussing what to do next. They conspired to discover where she'd come from and if there were others like her, but one proposed another idea, equally disturbing as the last.
"Whatever that thing is..." he muttered. "Let's weaken it until it'll do what we say. Legalities do not permit us to run any type of test of any sort unless she signs a contract. If we deprive her of food for a while, I'm sure she'll sign for a catered feast. From then on, the scientists can take care of it."
Around the table, everyone nodded, and so they began to execute their plan.
Two hours later, a guard went into Liz's cell and tossed her a small piece of stale bread. The piece would fit into the palm on her hand and she wondered, was she really supposed to eat this? "Excuse me, what is this?" Liz asked, picking up the loaf, her eyes focused on the guard incredulously.
"Dinner," the guard responded and slammed the door shut, echoing it closure across the empty cell. Liz flipped it around in her hand a couple of time and sunk her teeth into the crush. It was like eating dirt, but she could see that this would be the gist of it from here on. True, everyday, two times a day the same door would open and a small piece of frail bread would be tossed into her cell.
From then on, she barely even regarded them. The hunger aching at her inside out barely even bothered her anymore, but it reminded her of her past here, having to starve when her mother decided against feeding her any meal. Liz wondered to herself, exactly what they were doing now since they all knew where she was. Where they working to get her out? Or were they completely disregarding it? Liz liked to think they were working harder than ever for her sake, just because that's what friends do.