SARAH
The cold bit into my skin as I sat huddled in the corner of the cell. My arms were wrapped tightly around my knees, my chin resting on them, trying to hold myself together.
The walls were damp and smelled of mildew, the air heavy and stale. I felt like I was suffocating in here, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
I had screamed. I had begged. My voice had cracked and broken from crying out for mercy, but there was never any response.
Only the sound of my own voice echoed back to me, taunting me with its emptiness. Even the smallest movement I made, like dragging my fingers across the rough floor, seemed amplified, as if the room itself was laughing at my misery.
I couldn’t stop my thoughts from racing, though I wished I could. Had Jackson noticed I was gone? Was he looking for
