Forty-Four
I wake in a room covered entirely in padding. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling. It’s probably Roarke’s idea of a sick joke, given the type of institution my mother—nope, not my mother. Dani—spent the past five years in. Either that or he honestly thinks I’m so depressed about the current state of my life that I’m planning to hurt myself by ramming into walls.
He wouldn’t be entirely wrong there.
Not about the wall-ramming part. That would be excessive. But the depressed part isn’t far off. The same thoughts have been tormenting me since the moment I woke up. The same images. Vi and Ryn’s shock when I shouted, ‘They’re my parents!’ Their bodies pressed against the glass as that oval-shaped vehicle carried them away. Their silent shouts.
I saved the veil, but I couldn’t
