Chapter Thirty
Even
The sound of chopping roused her from her stupor. Atty managed to open her eyes, but focusing was difficult. She no longer felt the cold. In truth, she felt...nothing. Her skin was ice. Her hands and feet refused to obey. The ropes alone kept her upright.
There was the shattering of glass. The smell of smoke drifted toward her. It was barely dawn, but the rising sun would soon warm things up.
She had no memory of the night before. She looked down at her body, surprised by her lack of feeling. Her overly-full breasts had compensated as only nature could, and leaked milk until it ran like twin streams down her body, puddling at her feet until the pressure was eased. It was the only warmth she’d felt since being taken hostage.
The smoke grew thicker. She could hear th
