Anna's POV
I don't sleep.
I lie in my bed with the window cracked and the sea breathing in and out down at the dock the way it has every night of my whole life, and for the first time I can remember, it doesn't settle me. Usually the sound of the water is the thing that puts me under. Tonight it just goes on and on in the dark, indifferent, while I stare at the ceiling and see a syringe catching the light in a buzzing concrete room, over and over, every time I close my eyes.
I keep touching the place on my arm where the man grabbed me two nights ago. There's a bruise there now, four small ovals where his fingers dug in, gone the sick green-yellow of a bruise a few days old. I press them in the dark and feel the little ache bloom and fade, bloom and fade, and I can't stop doing it, the w
