The Harem on the Hill (Part IX)

You turn off the monitor.  Five minutes later, you're still staring at the blank screen.  You resist the temptation to turn it on again, however, and eventually rise to start your day.   

You putter in the garden.  You take a dip in the pool.  You try to stay busy, but find yourself constantly checking your phone like a teenaged girl.  The highlight of your day should have been the 5% gain in Apple stock (of which you own 10,000 shares), but instead comes at 5:57 PM when Tina's weight clicks from 125 to 126.  

It's clear where your true investments lie.  

As the week goes on, Tina's weight ping-pongs between 124 and 129, but remains on an upward trajectory.  Returns to lower numbers are brief, like fleeting glimpses of a setting sun before it disappears, while the higher numbers endure for a day or two before likewise fading into the sunset.

It would be enjoyable if Tina wasn't so miserable.  At first, you have to fight the urge to check on her constantly, but by the end of the week, you can only bear checking-in for a few seconds at a time.  Tina's entire day is spent eating and sleeping, and while neither is "Must See TV" you actually prefer watching her sleep.  Her self-stuffing is robotic and perfunctory and, combined with a lack of attention to personal hygiene (Tina still hasn't showered or changed from her robe), is about as titillating as watching a homeless woman eat from a dumpster.

Every now and again, she looks wearily towards the camera and says something...but you keep the sound muted.  That's what really breaks your heart.  Tina needed to be punished, sure, but you never imagined it would be such a punishment for yourself.

A week after beginning her solitary confinement, Tina hits the 130-pound mark.  However, any joy you feel at her progress fades away as the video on your monitor fades-in.  Her apartment is a disaster--you've grown accustomed to that--but now the words "Talk to me!" are scrawled across the fridge, the television, the pantry door, the walls, virtually any flat surface not already obscured by trash.  It appears to have been smeared on with ketchup or some other dark-colored condiment.

At least you hope that's what it is.  

You can't find Tina...but a lump near the foot of her bed suggests she might be under the covers.  

"Tina.  Tina!"

No answer.  No movement.  Tina's vitals seem fine, but the fluctuations in her blood pressure and resting heart rate over the past week make it difficult to tell if she's asleep or waiting in ambush.

You're starting to feel like a zookeeper who's been shipped a dangerous exotic animal with no care instructions.  Tina's behavior and insights are concerning...but your lack of knowledge about her concerns you even more.  It's high time to get some answers.  

But what tact should you take?  And can you trust Tina to give them to you?  You've been meaning to drop by Cornucupia (disappearing from the coffee shop at the same time as the hostess looks suspicious); maybe you should do a little detective work on your own?

What happens next?