CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PRIYAA scream wakes me and turns my skin cold. My eyes flutter open, and I feel my back aching from uncomfortably leaning against a metal bar. Then, as I sit up slowly, my head smacks against another one. I grumble, cursing the rods and wishing the noise would stop when I notice the forms of bodies inside small metal crates. So small that the person inside can’t move, and their hanging limbs outside are their only taste of freedom.
I look around in search for the source of the screaming I hear and spot a woman a few cages down from me. The sound is deafening; it raises the hairs on the back of my neck and churns my stomach. She is hysterical, pressing her face against the bars reaching out into the air. She looks at me. Her eyes bulge out of their sockets as she push
