My eyelids slip closed, but even the thought of sleep is laughable. As exhausted as my body is, my mind is operating at a constant, frantic hum.
It's like a nightmare where you're caught in endless hallways and no door will open. No matter how many times I run the scenario, lying here leads to death. Either at the hands of Ilya or one of the goons I can hear cackling and drinking down the hall.
Or, if I get out of here, maybe Samuil will kill me himself.
I bury my sobs in my sleeve. No one who hears them will come to help.
Like Ilya said, I brought this on myself.
I should've let my father kill me. At least then I would've died knowing Samuil trusted me. I could've died with my dignity intact---whatever that's worth.
Now, Samuil will show up and execute me like the traitor he thinks
