They had walled in the garden.
She stopped, remembering the photo on the wall in the Hertz cabin.
She took in his wounds again, unable to fathom why her father would chain him to the wall in their wine cellar.
He went back to his small room and sat on the bed staring at the white wall in front of him.
He said nothing and mirrored her position, leaning against the wall in what she knew was irritated mockery.
He swung his ice ax into the wall in front of him, dug in the toes of his crampons and began to ascend toward Dean.