Two years. She'd been there for two years and the only goal she had in her miserable life was to die. Moira Uí Fionnáin was her given name but those bastards had dug through her head to the point where she found it hard to remember it. There were times when it came to her, during the middle of the night or when she thought she would surely die from hunger or torture. That's when her name finally registered and she would remember who she is. Where she had come from. What she was capable of doing. The other times, she spent trying to look for ways out of the place even though she knew there was none.
Moira had left home because she thought she was a big girl, ready to face the world. Her mother had told her nothing good was out there but she'd wanted to see it for herself. Otherwise how wo
