8
Lianna
Calm down, Lianna. It’s only another nightmare.
You’re not really thirteen. And you’re definitely not Silas’s prisoner anymore. You’re actually asleep in Maxon’s chambers, remember? Open your eyes. Everything will be fine.
Just.
Wake.
Up.
My internal pep talk doesn’t work, though. I stay fast asleep. Even worse, my dreams force me down into Silas’s underground lair. My conscious self knows the space is actually cold and cramped. But in my dream, it stretches out onto an impossibly large scale. Cages line the walls, each one packed to overflowing with mice and rats. Their frightened, chirping cries echo strangely in the chamber. Huge barrels of bloody goop dot the floor. And in the center of everything lies my old cage. My thirteen-year-old self lies curled in fetal position
