I DIDN'T HEAR a peep from anyone, even long after Timothée had left. I sat, huddled up in the mildew-smelling chair with Sinclair's jacket wrapped snuggly around my body and Timothée's jacket around my legs. At first, the cold had been so unbearable, I was sure I would freeze to death. And then, the warehouse door had slid open and one of the Grave Rebels bought in a portable heater, sat it at my feet, and left. The inviting heat against my body thawing out all the coldness was almost painful, but I welcomed it, and after a while, my frozen body was back to normal.
Then, I started to wonder what time it was. What time was it when I had been caught? How long had I been here? What was Sinclair doing now?
Not too long after I thought those things, slivers of morning sunlight gleamed through
